


Weltschmerz

by tangymustard (zestymayonaisse)



Series: Valkyria Chronicles: Crows of Schwartzgrad [1]
Category: Senjou no Valkyria | Valkyria Chronicles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically a VC3-style story where Nikola and Chiara join the secret police, Child Abuse, Gen, Now with canon-atypical violence!, Past Child Abuse, Torture, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-03-07 12:55:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18873613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zestymayonaisse/pseuds/tangymustard
Summary: Following the brutal defeat at Schwartzgrad and the sudden disappearance of Dr. Heinrich Belgar, Nikola and Chiara are offered a new lease on life from a strange man with a grand vision, Lord Commissar Montgomery York. After their brush with death, however, both girls find themselves not only struggling to learn to command their own troop, but also struggling to learn about themselves.**REWRITTEN AS OF 8/10/19, please reread!**





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some liberties with canon were taken during the process of writing this story, but overall I tried sticking to the script as much as possible. (I did assume the war lasted longer than a year considering thats how real wars work.) This story is going to revolve around the Commissariat (basically the NKVD), because any self-respecting empire needs a secret police to maintain social order. I also wanted to give Nikola and Chiara a story and explore the concept of child soldiers, which is why they're going to be intentionally aged down for this fic because it makes their characters more interesting. This will be regularly updated since most of it has been actually written and is just awaiting editing. If you read this, I hope you enjoy!  
>  **EDIT:** 1\. This was rewritten to more clearly convey that the Commissariat are the villians I was hoping X-0 would be (but failed at). 2. I'm also aware VC is meant to be from the perspective of relatively normal soldiers, but Nikola and Chiara occupy an interesting perspective in the Empire that I wanted to use to elaborate on the Empire's internal dynamics. Because they were pretty much wasted in their original roles is why I wanted to elaborate and give them actual stories. 3. This rewrite will more effectively set up the actual tone for the story to come and the actual ramifications for the ending of VC4. Hopefully this is more fun to read as it was more fun to write.  
> (Cover art by @splatsune on tumblr)

 

– December 1935 –

 

Montgomery York had been standing in the ruins of Victory Plaza for only ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. For a moment, the world stood still as he was overwhelmed by emotion, by grief and sadness, by rage and disgust, as he looked upon the destruction wrought by the Federation’s Snowcruiser. He couldn’t suppress the shake of his hands as he tapped the hilt of his cane. His face was contorted in a distinct expression of grief, as if the scene before him carried the same weight as the loss of a love one. The heaviness in his chest was suffocating—Montgomery felt weak in the knees.

 

Even through such powerful despair, the Lord Commissar’s mind was wracked with questions. How could the Federation’s Navy even managed to threaten the Imperial Capital? Even though he felt weak, Montgomery could see the future in front of him. The end of the Empire he loved so dearly was visible in the smoldering ruins of Schwartzgrad. The idea felt so impossible, so incomprehensible, his vision blurred and he suddenly found himself falling toward the cold cobblestone street.

 

However, the Lord Commissar never hit the ground; instead, he felt arms firmly hold him in place. He blinked, then turned to see his right-hand man, Karl Ludwig. Montgomery’s lips curled upward in relief, and he allowed himself to linger for a moment in his companion’s arms. He slowly pushed himself off the man, standing upright once more, before the deep frown returned to his face. Staring forward, the Lord Commissar said, “How did it come to this, Ludwig? When did our Empire die?”

 

Karl could hear the anger in Montgomery’s voice and walked up to his boss’s side. Standing next to each other, he said, “Those in power no longer believe in our ideals. Too many of our commanders only serve themselves.” He allowed the words to sink in before hesitantly adding, "The Emperor has already signed the ceasefire.”

 

Montgomery’s face changed again, this time in disgust, at the suggestion the Empire had been forced to kneel to the dogs in the West. “So, this is how that old fool pays back the millions of our dead? That cowardly dog deserves to be shot where he sits.” To speak such a sentence was treason, but who would be the one to punish him? The Lord of Crows himself decided what constituted a treasonous thought, and in his mind, he harbored none towards the Empire itself. He turned his head to meet Ludwig’s gaze. He stared at his subordinate for a moment, lost in thought, before speaking. “Our Empire has been betrayed, Ludwig! Infiltrators, spies, and cowards have finally shown themselves in earnest.”

 

There was a slight quiver to his voice, and his blue eyes were burning with an intensity that caused even Karl to shift uneasily. The snow had begun to fall gently on the grand city. York slammed his cane into the ground, the leather gloves on his hands taut against his knuckles as he gripped the head of his cane. The icy wind briefly picked up causing his black coat to flap erratically, and for a moment, the Lord Commissar looked like a monster of myth. Resolutely he declared, “This wasn’t the act of a mere rogue unit! X-0 is a symptom of a much greater disease that has infected our entire military.” He gestured at the destruction all around them and continued, “I have had enough of excuses!” He slammed his cane into the ground once more. “The Commissariat no longer will answer to the spineless cowards who allowed this to happen!”

 

The Lord Commissar pointed at his subordinate. “Once we are through, we will pay back those Federate rats for this crime against humanity with such a fury, it will reverb throughout history.”

 

Karl couldn’t help but smile at the declaration. Such a raw and powerful speech found the normally stoic man holding back an applause. Instead, though, he reached into his pocket and removed a pack of cigarettes. Tapping one out he said, “What are your orders, Lord Commissar?”

 

“An order?” Montgomery repeated aloud, placing a hand on his chin. The older gentleman was still somewhat lost in his own world. After a few minutes he spoke again, “This never happened. We cannot allow our country’s few loyal men to doubt our war machine. Everyone involved is hereby classed as non-persons.” Karl nodded, making a mental note to begin the arduous process of mass censorship. Montgomery added, “So, do you have an update for me?”

 

“Yes. Ulyana and her men are marching the remnants of X-0 up from the Crystal Sea. Only a handful,” Karl informed him. At the mention of the Science Division, Montgomery’s face hardened considerably. Karl continued, “Volker found the body of X-0’s strategist, but...” He trailed off, not wanting to go into details about what the head torturer was doing with the corpse. York nodded grimly. “Lastly, Manfred is searching the Orcinus Magnus with a few of his men.”

 

“Very good,” Montgomery said dryly.

 

“No sign of Heinrich Belgar,” Karl said, filling in his boss’s thoughts.

  
Montgomery clicked his tongue. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” His voice shook slightly at the realization. He had twice challenged the absurd decision to allow X-0 to continue to lead the defensive actions around the Crystal Sea, despite repeated failures to stop the Federation’s Navy. Slowly, he asked, “And what of Friedhold?”

 

“Dead. Looks like he shot himself as instructed,” Karl answered, placing the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. Smoking was helping take some of the edge off. “Burned almost the entire office, to his credit.”

 

“I see,” Montgomery murmured, tapping the hilt of his cane. With a hint of sadness, he spoke up. “Friedhold was one of the greatest, most forthright men this country had ever seen. His selfless attitude was something all men should strive to replicate. The Empire lost its strongest pillar this week!” The Lord Commissar reached out suddenly and pulled Karl forward. “Have some men investigate the Science Board, wipe the slate clean of all corruption. I do not care the consequences—leave no one left.” Letting go of the man’s jacket, he continued, “How many survivors of X-0 are left?”

 

“Around fifty, sir.” Karl answered.

 

“Fifty traitors, nothing more,” Montgomery clarified with a dark smile. He walked over and sat down on the remains of the once mighty fountain in the center of the plaza. “Once Ulyana arrives, reprisals for this failure shall begin.”

 

-

 

The survivors from X-0 had been disarmed and solemnly marched up to Victory Plaza. It was a depressing line up of condemned men who hadn’t had the luck of escaping as the battle was coming to an end. Intermingled with the uniforms of black and purple were soldiers in traditional steel gray who had been the unlucky defenders of the rest of the city, scooped up by Commissars during their initial sweep.

 

Around the survivors were figures in long black coats who looked upon the traitors with disdain. In the front of the procession were the only two women within in the Commissariat. The first was Ulyana von Wolzogen, who remained emotionless even when looking upon the destruction around her. The second was Klara Hedvig, a voluptuous red-haired Commissar, who radiated a destructive energy while clutching the hilt of the rapier hanging from her belt.

 

The two women brought the men to the Plaza and ordered them to kneel on the ground with their hands behind their head. Montgomery and Karl walked over to see the faces of those responsible.

 

“Who is in charge here!?” shouted Klara, who looked ready to kill the whole group of men and be done with the whole fiasco.

 

Murmurs crept throughout the crowd of men, but no one came forward. Montgomery made a slight nod and Klara walked forward. She grabbed the first kneeling man and dragged him forward in front of the Commissars. Without a word, Ulyana removed her pistol and Klara took a step back.

 

The shot rang out as the soldier fell to the ground, blood slowly soaking the stone beneath his body. Addressing the rest of the men, this time Ulyana spoke. “We will shoot one man every three minutes until someone speaks.”

 

“Who is in charge here!” Karl asked again in a more measured tone. He took another drag from his cigarette, awaiting a response.

 

Shakily, one of the men in the middle row stood up and with a slightly stutter said, “N-none of us, sir.”

 

Montgomery pushed up his glasses and stared at the man. “Come forward,” he commanded, placing both hands on his cane. The man nervously came to the front and the Lord Commissar asked, “So who was in charge of this failure? Heinrich Belgar?”

  
  
Before the man could speak, Klara grabbed him by the collar and shook him violently, “Your strategist is dead, so don’t think you can get away with blaming a dead man.”

 

“We want names of the living,” Ulyana added, still holding her pistol in hand.

  
  
Montgomery held up a hand, “Easy Hedvig. Let the man speak.”

 

Klara released the soldier. He cleared his throat with a cough, though still had a noticeable shake to his voice as he said, “Doctor Belgar fought valiantly, but in the end...” The man’s face changed as if having a sudden realization. With confidence he changed his tune, “I tell you, it was his damned lieutenants’ faults. They fucked up all our plans.”

  
  
“Oh, is that so?” Montgomery said, a smirk forming on his face. He figured traitors would want to pawn off blame on any scapegoat. “And pray tell, what are their names?” Karl took out a small notepad and listened intently.

 

“Special Lieutenant Chiara Rocino—she was suppose to defend the plaza.” He paused and looked down as if suddenly morose. “She fled when ordered to blow up the enemy’s lead tank.” He left out the fact it was a futile suicide mission. Karl scribbled the name down and the soldier continued. “Also, there was Special Lieutenant Nikola Graf. She too disappeared when the Magnus came under determined assault.” Once again, he chose to leave out the circumstances of the battle.

 

“I see,” Montgomery said dryly. He thought for a moment, then asked, “And what is your name, soldier?”

  
  
“Walter Heinz, uh, sir,” Walter answered quickly and started to wring his hands nervously, watching the Lord Commissar’s face.

 

“Hmm. Your honesty is commendable, Walter,” Montgomery said with a hint of sarcasm. He turned to Ulyana. “Fetch Volker. I have a feeling we will need his unique touch.”

 

“But Lord Commissar, I am right here.” The ghoulish cadence of Commissar Volker was distinct, and the figures in black turned to see the head torturer standing slightly behind them. Their eyes immediately drifted to the disembodied head he had been clutching, carried by the black hair on its scalp. It was almost unrecognizable after what had been done to it.

  
  
Most of the skin had been peeled away, and the eye sockets were empty. The lips had been sliced to ribbons and part of the head had been cracked open. Volker threw it onto the ground in front of the rest of the men of X-0, who started to panic. The reaction pleased him greatly. Some of the black-clad Commissars forced the men back down with their guns. Montgomery smiled at the action and reached out, putting a hand on Walter’s shoulder. “Volker, please take this man away for questioning. He’s an honest sort, it seems.”

 

Walter went pale and Volker started to smile grandly. “Of course Lord Commissar.” He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and put them on Walter. “Please, this way, sir.” The soldier started to protest but it fell on deaf ears as he was nearly dragged away.

  
  
Turning his attention back to the rest of the men, Montgomery sighed. “Hedvig, there are simply far too many traitors here for us to question them all. Please thin the ranks a little.”

  
  
“Yes, Lord Commissar.” Hedvig saluted and was, with the help of her men, lining up the condemned men on a wall nearby.

 

“Karl, Ulyana,” Montgomery said flatly.

  
  
“Sir?” they replied in unison.

  
  
“Tear this city apart. Find these Lieutenants,” Montgomery said, turning back toward the plaza. Karl and Ulyana nodded, quickly leaving.

 

-

 

Montgomery waited patiently, returning to his brooding at a bench nearby. Every few minutes a collection of shots would echo across the stone city, indicating another handful of soldiers from X-0 were no longer a threat to the Empire. He couldn’t help but smile as he sat there alone on the hard stone.

 

He watched as Manfred approached and saluted. The man’s face was unsettling to look at. The handiwork of their own head torturer had left the man lacerated and scarred on any visible skin and blind in one eye, and his disposition was almost always one of disinterest or detachment. “Lord Commissar, I have completed my search.”

  
  
“Find anything?” Montgomery asked curiously, tapping his finger against his leg.

  
  
Manfred shook his head.“No one living, at least. I ordered my men to look through it again.”

  
  
Montgomery put a hand on his chin. “Double check the bedrooms and office.” Then he added, “Is the sub still functioning?”

  
  
“Partially, sir. The engine and weapons are damaged, but could easily be repaired.” Manfred said, putting his hands into his pockets.

  
  
“Very good. Send it in for repairs,” Montgomery instructed, and Manfred left without another word.

 

After another hour of waiting, Commissar Volker returned with a smile which could light up the world, had it not been attached to his face. He saluted and reached into his pocket, revealing a blood-stained confession. “Mr. Heinz confessed to a conspiracy to defect to Vinland and named everyone responsible.”

  
  
Montgomery took the paper and studied it curiously. Sure enough, a whole list of names was written down both sides of the paper. Everyone from the lowest mechanics to Belgar himself had been ratted out. “Very good. Please take care of the rest of these men.” He gestured to the ten still kneeling men which were surrounded by Commissars. “Process them thoroughly, and once you are finished with them, deal with any possible familial connections.”

  
  
Volker left as excited as he had arrived, this time trailed by the rest of the soldiers from X-0 in tow and several Commissars. Montgomery didn’t have to wait long, as soon Karl had breathlessly returned. “We found them.”

  
  
Standing up, Montgomery said, “And what? Did you make the arrests?”

  
  
Karl shook his head. “Its not… that simple.” Montgomery narrowed his eyes and he quickly added, “You are going want to see this.”

  
  
“Lead the way,” Montgomery said, following his subordinate down toward the opening to the Crystal Sea.

 

-

 

A little ways from the wreck of the Orcinus Magnus was a small embankment which led up to the walls of Schwartzgrad. To his own shock, York found himself looking down, not at two harden soldiers, but at the empty eyes of two teenage girls. Their faces alone showed a level of hopelessness he had only seen in the eyes of men after Volker had completely broken their spirits.

 

The two girls were equally battered and bruised, huddled in the snow but not even responding to the cold. The tawny girl was rocking back and forth, mumbling to herself while clutching her stomach. Karl knelt down beside her and snapped his fingers. She flinched, but didn’t move, only curling further in on herself. Montgomery could only vaguely understand what she was saying.

 

“Sorry… Failed… Sorry...” she muttered, repeating a few words in an endless loop.

  
  
Next to her was a pale girl, who was completely absent from the world. She clutched her side, palm red with blood. Ulyana was crouched next to her, attempting to look at the wound, but the girl was completely unresponsive to the Commissar.

  
  
“What should we do, Lord Commissar? It looks like she’s been shot,” Ulyana said after standing up.

 

Montgomery thought for a moment and wondered if it was in poor taste to torture children. He walked over to the blonde girl and sharply dug his cane into her side, causing her to twist away from and whimper, her entire body shaking. He could just barely hear her voice as she pleaded mindlessly, “Sorry… Lord Belgar… please… S-Sorry…”

 

The words were weak, but they were enough for the ruthless Lord Commissar. “Shame, he seemed to have left his dogs behind. Ulyana,” he waved his hand, “patch that one up, then let Volker speak to them like the rest. We are going to find Heinrich. He will answer for this crime.”

 

He paused, then suddenly remembered the other man involved with the defense of the Capital. “Find Klaus Walz as well,” he told Ulyana, then addressed the rest of the crowd, “Justice will be done. No one will escape punishment this time.”

 

Karl hesitated, ready to protest the decision to treat children the same as the rest of the division, but then decided against it. He moved to drag the tawny girl to her feet. There was hardly any resistance, and he jerked her forward a little more roughly then he intended.

  
  
Ulyana did the same with the pale girl but had to keep a hand on the girl’s shoulder to stop her from collapsing completely.

 

 

 

 _\--_ 28 February 1936--

 

The vast bureaucratic East European Imperial Alliance, colloquially known as the Empire, had various institutions in place to manage its sprawling authoritarian state. Unknown to the rest of the continent was the Commissariat of Internal Security, which derived its authority from the first Emperor’s mandate and served as an extrajudicial, militarized police force. Following the egregious military failure to defend Schwartzgrad, the Commissariat officially broke its last remaining connection to the Imperial Military.

 

Commissars were often referred to as Crows, because of their distinctive black trenchcoats and emblem depicting a crow holding a dagger in its claws. With a monopoly on the Imperial legal system, the organization’s primary efforts during the Second European War were concerned with partisan suppression, prison camp administration, and war propaganda.For an autocratic society cannot exist without unity and the Commissariat ensured everyone remained fully committed to the war, no matter the costs.

 

The Commissariat was headed by the Lord Commissar—a man named Montgomery York who, just by virtue of being an expat from Edinburgh, was already an odd choice for the role, at least superficially. He was nearly sixty, lame in his right leg thanks to a bullet wound, and spoke in an accent that betrayed his nationality despite attempts to mask it. Even stranger was the fact he claimed no noble lineage at all—something that regularly put him at odds with the nobility. However, the reason York was Lord Commissar was something far more specific to the man: he had a boundless fanaticism, a complete unquestioning belief in the moral rightness of the Imperial State. In such zeal lurked controversy, though, as Montgomery believed more in the idea of autocracy rather than the Emperor or the state itself. Even Bertold Gregor, who had once met the Lord Commissar at a normal military ceremony, shied away in the face of such moral righteousness. Alienated by many of the natural-born members of the state, Montgomery York was not an unthinking servant of the Empire; rather, he was its harshest internal critic, who believed above all the state had to shed its feudal backward policies or face its inevitable collapse

 

Attempts to expand the limits of the Commissariat’s authority had inevitably earned Montgomery the ire of many of the most powerful families in the Empire and he found himself more than once the victim of an assassination attempt. However, each failure was, as he declared, proof of the fact he was protected by destiny itself. Further setting himself apart from the rest of the country was the fact he seemed impervious to nepotism and truly did behave as a public servant, requesting not even an ounce of praise for his actions. Oddly enough, within the walls of his office, he displayed a surprising tendency toward mercy; the Lord Commissar had become increasingly convinced the men languishing in the prison built in the basement of his building were largely victims of circumstances out of their control. Always one to position himself as a selfless savior, Montgomery regularly recruited condemned men into the ranks of the Crows, especially in the case of those who either had nothing left or displayed personality traits which would make them easy to control. For the Lord of Crows had no use for men who couldn’t follow his directions.

 

Following the events at Schwartzgrad the office was thrown into chaos as it tried to make sense of why the Imperial Capital of all places had been threatened by the Federation’s navy so easily. Complicating things was the Lord Commissar’s own personal hatred of Heinrich Belgar, who seemed to have escaped justice during the fighting. In the week that followed, Montgomery signed two hundred execution orders a day. The Imperial Science Board was completely decapitated, but it wasn’t enough. Soon after he was quarreling with the Emperor himself to purge the entire upper echelons of the military. In the days that followed, six of Montgomery’s harshest critics from within the military committed suicide in their homes, tearfully signed letters confessing their involvement in a plot to overthrow the Emperor were found next to them—a powerful warning to all those who wanted to challenge to further expansion of the invisible army of the Commissariat.

 

In the case of Klaus Walz, the Commissariat found itself once again hindered by the Military High Command itself. As it turned it out, the Imperial army was content to let the disgraced leader of Ausbrusch walk free, citing that there was no way he would have been able to relieve the city with a damaged tank and an under-strength platoon. It helped that Klaus was protected by his stolen war asset as well.

 

However, such a decision only served to further convince the Lord Commissar that the entirety of the armed forces were compromised. When the Emperor suffered a stroke, most likely owing to the mental strain caused by the loss at Schwartzgrad, Montgomery ordered his men to arrest Klaus, the survivors of his platoon, and the valkyria; he intended to send a message to the Imperial leadership that no more failures would be tolerated, and if they lacked the backbone to hold commanders accountable, then the Commissariat would involve itself in earnest.

 

The first Commissars who were sent to arrest Klaus in his hometown were returned to the Commissariat in blocks of ice, so the Lord Commissar sent the hammer of the Commissariat, Klara Hedvig. She surrounded the entire city and issued a simple ultimatum: surrender to investigation or be destroyed. Klaus assumed a valkyria would be more than a sufficient obstacle and predictably resisted. Perhaps if he was still dealing with the likes of Nikola and Chiara, who couldn’t possibly hope to challenge such power and live, then Klaus would have been safe. However, he wasn’t dealing with two mentally unstable of teenagers, but rather the Commissariat’s architect of mass terror. As such, Klara was whole other caliber of woman, completely different from the submissive waifs Klaus was used to dealing with. She cared little for his masculine charms which only served to enrage her further. Tired of the resistance, Klara ordered her men to burn the fields, hang the farmers, and cut off all food imports to the whole region.

 

An extreme measure, one that inevitably induced an artificial famine, but Klara was taking no chances; after all, her opponent was in fact a valkyria. Unlike some in the military, even the bloodthirsty Commissar had no intentions of getting her men killed trying to challenge a legend openly. It took only one month of watching his home suffer for the honorable Klaus to surrender without a fight, as he could see the Commissariat was fully prepared to target civilians if it meant forcing him to submit to investigation.

 

All that remained was the curious case of the last two surviving members of X-0, the Special Lieutenants. When Volker had reported that after nearly a month of intense torture, neither girls seemed to know where Heinrich had gone, Montgomery was prepared to have them executed as well. However, the head torturer protested the decision by simply producing two blank confessions, pointing out that neither girl had ever properly confessed despite their treatment. Such was a rare case that even Volker himself had informed York of their endurance. Montgomery was not only forced to consider in earnest their innocence, but also mulled over the possibility of recruitment. He ordered their treatment be eased, and arranged a meeting.

 

His office was larger than most commissioned officers, boasting two grand windows along the exterior wall. Royal red- and gold-embroidered curtains parted to provide a view of the rest of the military district in Schwartzgrad. To the right of the wooden mahogany desk, piled high with various papers, was a large map showing all the imperial territories with in the Eastern European Imperial Alliance. Montgomery stared at the map, lost in thought as he waited for guards to drag his next appointment up from the basement. As the war dragged on, the weakened Imperial Army struggled to contain the nationalist agitation growing across the Empire, with many once-securely occupied territories rife with civil unrest. Montgomery had been working overtime to connect a coherent thread from rebel groups and outside intervention. The map itself was pinned with various notes that Montgomery had written himself to keep track of the current situation. Each pin was connected to another by a piece of black string, nearly all of them originating across the ocean out of the United States of Vinland.

 

A large bear skin rugged made up the middle of the office, with two chairs facing the Commissar’s desk. The left of the office had a grand bookcase complete with various scientific books about the various peoples within the diverse Empire. A radio hummed a slow classical tune as the door opened. The guard roughly led in the two prisoners, then saluted as he was silently waved off.

 

Montgomery pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and eyed the two people in his room with curiosity. Two teenage girls charged with the responsibility for the failure of Schwartzgrad. They were swimming in baggy prison garb and chained together, a sign they must’ve struggled against their interrogators. He found himself drawn to their eyes—periwinkle and umber. The vacant expressions of both girls transported Montgomery back momentarily to the end of the First European War. So many Imperial soldiers came back wearing similarly blank and hopeless expressions. With millions dead, the Empire had been permanently crippled and its factories struggled to return to full strength. The Lord Commissar felt a twinge of pity for the two girls. Their spirits had clearly been ground down to nothing. However, the ability to survive against all odds was a coveted strength in the Lord Commissar’s mind. Moreso, as he flipped through the report, without signed confessions, it made them near impossible to condemn.

 

The first girl, who stood slightly behind her companion had frizzy pale blonde hair and barely seemed present in the room. She was ghostly pale and, unlike her companion, was totally withdrawn from the world around her. Despite this fact, she met the Commissar’s gaze with eyes that harbored a darkness that hardly fit such a young face.

 

“Special Lieutenant Nikola Graf, I presume?”

 

“Yes.” Her tone was deadened and York could tell she was struggling to even pay attention. She had most likely been sleep-deprived and her eyes darted around the room erratically. Her features, in the Lord Commissar’s mind, were right in line with the dominate phenotype commonly associated with the average Imperial citizen. She was reserved, but only on the surface; he could tell underneath she held a sadistic nature similar to those he hired in his own office.

 

He looked over at the second girl in front of him. Her copper complexion was ashen and haggard, and he could tell she must have come from a more recently incorporated region in the south, though which one, he wasn’t sure. She was only an inch shorter than her partner, with stringy, straight violet hair. Unlike her counterpart, she wore her irritation on her sleeve. She was clearly someone who enjoyed violence, which was a trait worthy of interest in its own right—someone who could be directed and act without questions was a worthy investment in his eyes. Together, perhaps they would be fitting actors in his scheme.

 

“And Special Lieutenant Chiara… Ro.. _seen_ o?” He exaggerated his pronunciation and the girl’s empty brown eyes snapped towards him. Her entire body was tense. York watched her take a step forward with great interest. Would she bother attacking him? He calmly reached into the open drawer near his foot, hand curling around his Zeichmeister broomstick within. Should the girl lash out, he was prepared. She was obviously itching to fight, but before she could move closer, the other girl dug her feet into the ground. In a short but swift move, the chain connecting them jingled as Graf wrapped it around her palm, then gently slipped her free arm around Rocino’s.. The darker girl relaxed and even seemed rather confused by the gesture.

 

Though in a quick motion, Chiara quickly shoved Nikola away and they were both back to standing a few feet apart.

 

With a trademark aggressive tone Chiara shot back, “Its, Ro _jee_ no. You idiot.” Montgomery couldn’t help but smirk, finding himself appreciating the self-destructive impulse of someone who clearly had nothing left to lose.

 

The only sound in his cramped office was the squeaking of the ceiling fan and the crackle of the radio. Something about the situation bothered him greatly. Following the complete and utter obliteration of the Imperial Science Board, Montgomery had come into possession of officially filed documentation related to the experimentation both girls underwent. It had intrigued the Lord Commissar to stare so plainly into the depths of his rival’s lunacy. The project was nothing short of a complete waste of valuable time and resources, which had no applicability anywhere else in the military. In fact, motivated entirely out sheer hatred, Montgomery had used the project as an excuse to bring the remnants of the ISB under Commissariat supervision so no further wastage would occur.

 

There was something about the dehumanizing and mechanical language of the documents which had elicited a small amount of sympathy from the stone-faced Lord Commissar. However, he recognized that the girls before him were nothing than sharpened tools, and Montgomery was not one throw away someone else’s hard work, even if that someone else was his greatest rival. Regardless of their past history with X-0 and complicity in the failure to defend the capital, Montgomery was more than willing to extend an opportunity to both lieutenants.

 

Looking over at the two, Montgomery spoke in a noticeably softer tone. “I will be honest with you both. It would be a lot easier if I could just sign two execution orders. However, in light of your recent service to our country, I can tell you are both very capable assets.” Nikola and Chiara’s gaunt faces sunk at being referred to as “assets.” Even now, with the only life they had ever known turned upside down, they could not escape their sole purpose.

 

Montgomery, annoyed with the silence, pressed on the bridge of his nose and stood up. Leaning on his cane, he limped over to the grand map on the right wall of his office. He was not lying. He firmly believed that both girls could be of use to him. A patriot had to be pragmatic and know when to add cards to his hand, especially in the coming years which could decide the fate of the entire Empire.

  
  
“In the name of the Valkyur, I love this beautiful country,” the enigmatic Lord Commissar said aloud, looking enthusiastically at the map, his eyes alive with passion.

 

Neither girl paid attention as Montgomery began to ramble inanely about the history of the Empire.

 

Nikola was still struggling to keep what was left of her mind together. She squeezed her eyes shut, as the light streaming into the office was beginning to give her a migrane. For nearly two weeks, she had been interrogated mercilessly by Commissar Volker, who took pleasure in forcing even the smallest whimpers from the stoic girl’s mouth. In the end Nikola had completely shut herself down, and allowed her mind to drift back to a dark place, something familiar that had been her primary way of coping with Belgar’s adjustments as well.

 

As Nikola remained silent, ever impatient Chiara curtly cut off the rambling man. “You don’t have to tell us how great the Empire is. How about instead you tell us what you want from us. We don’t know where Lord Belgar is.”

 

Montgomery snapped back to reality and decided to get back on track. With a tap of his cane, he turned around to face them. Nikola started to stare at the ground but stopped zoning out enough to listen.

  
  
“Ah, I care little where the despicable worm of a man has ended up. He will be burned out of his hole soon enough,” the Lord Commissar said, resting both his hands on his silver headed cane. The air around him had changed entirely. He no longer seemed like a tired old man whose days were long over. It was clear that his vision saw far into the future. Chiara watched as his entire visage change to an imposing and confident stance. He was already formulating exactly what he wanted to do with the two girls.

  
  
“Truth be told, our Empire is coming apart at the seams.” His voice quivered with sadness as he gripped his cane tighter. “Thanks to X-0’s failings, now the whole North might break free from our Empire.” His voice steadied and he continued thoughtfully, “You two seem more than capable of getting the job done.” Nikola looked up at him, eyes completely devoid of any light. She did not know whether she was suppose to be relieved or terrified.

 

“Cut the speech. What does that even mean?” Chiara said, unimpressed. She seemed totally uncaring that both their lives were on the line.

  
  
Montgomery cocked his head to one side, frustrated with her impoliteness. With a more measured tone, he said, “The military has failed once again to protect our nation. I believe it is no longer a trustworthy institution, so I am forming a new unit.” He paused for a moment. “It will answer only to my office alone. In short, I would like to give you both a chance to redeem yourselves by taking over command of it,” he said while carefully watching their faces.

 

“I… I do not want to fight anymore.” Nikola’s soft voice was nearly inaudible.

 

Montgomery had expected some resistance. He spoke again, with an icier tone, “Unfortunate. The war is not over. Everyone must do their part to save our Empire.” He stepped towards them. “You are the property of this Empire. Your bodies, your minds, and your life serve only one purpose. To defend our Empire.”

 

An air of hopelessness hovered above the destitute soldiers. Montgomery stood directly in front of them and leaned in ominously. With a smirk he said, “Or maybe you both would prefer going back to a laboratory.”

 

The words had the desired effect. Immediately, their faces blanched with fear. Nikola gripped her arms and her voice cracked. “No… Not again.” She could still remember every slice into her skin and electric shock she had received at the hands of Lord Belgar. The very thought was enough to send her mind spiraling toward shutting down.

 

Chiara was visibly shaking and gritting her teeth. Montgomery smiled calmly. Though the threat was real, he’d still managed to leave a bad taste in his own mouth. He might have been a monster in his own right, but threatening children was not something even he could enjoy.

 

“W-why, you...” Chiara looked ready to explode. Her fear had given way to defensive rage. However, before she could do anything, Nikola spoke up.

  
  
“We accept.” The flatness in her voice had returned. It was obvious they had no choice.

 

“Nikola–” Chiara started to protest, shooting a glare at her comrade. However, Nikola told her to be quiet and Chiara quickly fell silent, biting her lip.

 

“Fantastic. I will make the necessary preparations,” Montgomery York said, clasping his hands together in finality.


	2. Chapter 2

\--6 March 1936--

 

Chiara was pacing the small cell, full of nervous energy. She hated being in confined spaces—it reminded her far too much of the post-op recovery room in Belgar’s laboratory. Chiara felt as though she was going to explode. At first she had tried to do push-ups to distract herself, but soon stopped as the pain in her arm was too intense. Instead, she found herself pacing around the cell, counting her own footsteps.

 

Nikola was sitting on her knees and watching Chiara with a disinterested look. Despite her calm exterior, Nikola felt like she was falling apart. She was pretty sure it had been at least two days, and even then, she was mad at herself for having only been able to make small talk with Chiara. The stressful nature of the situation had also forced them back into old habits. A few of the bruises on Nikola and Chiara’s faces were new, products of a fist fight they had gotten into out of sheer frustration.

 

“Can you stop that?” Nikola asked, furrowing her brow. The agitated girl stopped and then kicked the stone wall. After a few more angry kicks, Chiara walked over and plopped down next to Nikola.

 

“What is taking so long?” Chiara whined. She was already starting to fidget uncomfortably.

 

“You are too impatient,” Nikola muttered. Her mind was on fire, yet through it all, the apathetic girl still couldn’t explain the events which had transpired on the Centurion. She thought back to her memories during the Battle of Schwartzgrad. As all hope faded and she lay on the cold metal floor, Nikola’s mind had finally given up. She would be marked a failure in Lord Belgar’s eyes forever, and retired. The blonde Federation girl had said something about finding someone she loved, and the idea made her stomach turn.

  
  
Before the Federation girl could leave, footsteps echoed against the metal floor, and suddenly she was on the ground, gasping and clutching her throat. Nikola blearily gazed up to see blood, then a knife, then to her surprise Chiara was there standing over her, wide-eyed and out-of-breath. Chiara stepped over the Federation girl’s body and, using a vial of ragnaid she must have pilfered from another corpse, quickly applied it to her wounded partner. Barely lucid, Nikola protested meekly, insisting she had failed and weakly attempting to push the other girl away. Chiara ignored her pleas and, after a small struggle, managed to get her delusional comrade hoisted onto her back.

  
“Chiara… y-you…” Nikola muttered, returning to the present and waiting for the words to come. Chiara looked over, somewhat already anticipating what was about to be said. “You failed…”

 

The implication was clear, and Chiara’s already haggard face sunk even more. She scratched the back of her head as the scar at the base of her neck started to burn. “I know.” As if pleading, she said, “I… I tried, Nikola. I really did. You saw that, right?”

 

Nikola stayed silent for a moment, unimpressed with the excuse. Coldly, she said, “Lord Belgar said no more failures. Why didn’t you do as Forseti commanded?”

 

Agonized by her partner’s return to her normally cruel self, Chiara spoke shakily, “It all hurt so much.” She pounded her fist against the concrete in frustration. How was she supposed to explain why she disobeyed her final orders?

 

Upsetting herself with her own train of thought, she broke the silence with a shout. “I am just broken, alright!” Nikola stared at her following the outburst. “I can’t do anything right. I _know_ I am stupid and useless,” Chiara added, voice cracking. “I know, I know!” She slammed her head against the stone and winced in pain.

 

Nikola heard Chiara’s barrage of self-hate, and for once instead of reveling in it, she felt a genuine twinge of guilt. She had been forced to watch her partner struggle desperately in the plaza, powerless to help; even then, she had experienced a wave of immense relief as Chiara screamed that Forseti was a failure too, an almost child-like observation of the situation, before sprinting away from the Hafen entirely.

 

Though she was constantly struggling with her emotions, Nikola carefully thought over what she could say that might be comforting to her partner. After a moment she opened her mouth to speak. “Chiara… I am—” Her mind froze entirely, and she fell silent. Nikola didn’t want to apologize for not being there, as that would make her seem weak. So instead she softly said, “I am glad you didn’t go through with it.”

 

She reached out, intending to place a hand on Chiara’s shoulder, but froze as the other girl stood up suddenly. Moving to the other side of the cell Chiara kicked the wall again and started to scream out. Once her outburst was finished Chiara jerked back around and pointed at Nikola, “Y-you! Don’t pretend you care!”

  
Nikola looked up at her, completely stunned by the ferocity of her partner’s reaction. Then she too shot to her feet and screamed, “What is that suppose to mean!?” She stomped her foot. “I am not lying!”

  
  
Chiara growled. “All you have ever done is look down on me.”

 

“Shut up!” Nikola shouted back, slamming her fist into the wall behind her. The air was intense; it looked as though a fight was going to break out at any moment. Before they could come to blows though, two soldiers clad in plain black armor burst into the room, pinning both girls against the wall before chaining them together again.

 

They were roughly dragged up the steps of the prison and through the hallways of the Commissariat building. They quickly found themselves blinking uncomfortably in the bright sunlight of spring. For Chiara, seeing the sun for the first time in so long caused to her to let out an excited yell and she couldn’t help but leap up.

 

However, being chained to Nikola meant both of them ended up falling onto the hard cobblestone. Their premature celebration was cut short by the shouting of their guard, whose entire face was hidden from view by his black helmet, making it difficult to glare at him.

 

Once standing again, Nikola noticed there was a man standing in front of them both. He wore a long black trenchcoat, and his empty brown eyes caused her to shift uncomfortably. She generally felt confident reading people; the man seemed dangerous in a different way from Lord Belgar, in a way she couldn’t particularly say, despite his seemingly bored body language.

 

Hollow eyes bore into the two girls as the stranger looked them up and down. He then addressed the guard, “Thank you, Gustav. Restraints will not be needed.” He waved to the heavy metal cuffs on each girl’s hands.

 

“But these two are dangerous, sir,” Gustav protested, having seen personally Chiara almost completely take off Volker’s hand.

 

“The day I cower in fear in the face of children is the day I retire. Remove them now,” the man commanded. Nikola resented his choice in language, but was grateful to finally have her hands free. The authoritative man stamped his foot and dismissed the guards, leaving the two girls standing alone in front of him.

 

“I am Commissar Ludwig, but please—call me Karl.” He motioned for them to enter the car. “I will be your driver.”

 

“Well, duh,” Chiara said with an immature smirk, seeming to have already forgotten their precarious situation.

 

“Where are we going?” Nikola asked nervously.

 

Karl walked over to the driver’s side of the car. “The Lord Commissar has requested you both meet him at his summer estate. It’s a few hours out of the city.”

 

The black staff car was cramped and clearly built for function over luxury. A small blue ragnite engine was visible through the hood of the car and emitted a soft hum. She noticed the side door had a small metal emblem of a crow holding a daggar. As she climbed into the backseat, Nikola realized how long it had been since she had actually been in a car. They lurched forward and began to turn out onto the main road. Almost as soon as the car was in motion, Chiara started to nod off. At first she fought to keep her eyes open, but exhaustion had set in and she was soon snoring. Nikola was jealous, as she longed to be able to sleep despite the jostling of the car.

 

Nikola laid her head against the cool glass of the car’s window and watched, disinterested, as the sprawling ruins of Schwartzgrad gave way to untouched forests. For a moment she reflected on how beautiful she found the trees. They towered above the ground, powerful testaments to nature’s unyielding defiance to industrialization. Nikola also found herself amazed that she had lived long enough to see spring. She allowed her mind to wander for a while, but quickly stopped herself as her thoughts kept trailing into darker territory.

 

“Beautiful weather, isn’t it?” Karl asked conversationally while focusing on the road. He must have been watching her from the rear view mirror. Nikola furrowed her brow, annoyed that he had interrupted the quiet to say such an inane thing. She ran her fingers through her hair and ruminated on the fact it had been a long time since she had the luxury of a bath. Still focusing on the road, Karl spoke again, “You both seem to young too be soldiers.”

 

Nikola’s eyes flitted back to the back of his head. Had he turned around he would have seen how exasperated she felt about the question.

 

“You seem too stupid to be a driver,” Nikola replied dully. The childish nature of the insult caused Karl to chuckle. She did not understand what was so funny. She crossed her legs and leaned back staring at the cloth ceiling of the car. The car bounced after hitting a pothole and Chiara stirred; murmuring to herself, she slowly put her head on Nikola’s shoulder. Under normal circumstances, Nikola would have shoved Chiara off, especially after their spat in the cell. Just this once, though, she decided to let her friend rest.

 

“Schwartzgrad, huh?” Karl said as if he was talking to himself. Nikola rolled her eyes and sighed.

 

“What about it?” she asked. He thought for a moment as if trying to choose his words carefully.

 

“I heard the fighting was intense. Did the Federation’s Navy really penetrate the capital?” Karl asked, yet he already knew the answer. He had been spared having to be in the thick of the fighting personally. Before the Capital was evacuated, the Crows were forced to make a choice: save themselves and risk their work becoming known to the world on the small chance the Federation planned to stick around before destroying the city, or leave behind a small group of men to destroy everything that couldn’t be saved. Commissar Friedhold volunteered, and as Chiara was being informed of her failure, he blew his brains out, fearing his possible capture. Karl had to clean up the remains of the most devoted man in the organization, and it filled him with an intense resentment toward the Emperor for choosing to sign a ceasefire, rendering such a good man’s sacrifice pointless. Suddenly the failures of the military had become personal, and everyone in the Commissariat was itching to avenge the loss of one of their own.

  
“You already know,” Nikola muttered, reading the Commissar’s pained expression.

  
  
“You have a good eye. Yeah, we were involved, at least in a passive manner,” he admitted, resting an arm against the window. Nikola briefly wondered how much the man really knew about them. “Our military is infested with spineless cowards and traitors. Sacrificing the whole city was a far more logical choice than bowing to the Federation. X-0 should have never been allowed to threaten our Empire with its baffling incompetence in the first place,” Karl said, radiating a fury that caused him to grip the steering wheel tightly. “We will make sure those Federate dogs experience a great defeat in return.”

 

The intense anger caused Nikola to look down at her feet. She quietly murmured, “Oh.” She had never encountered fanaticism on the level the Commissar exuded.

  
  
Karl realized he was losing the girl quickly and changed the subject. “Say, how long were you part of X-0?” He had been too busy ensuring the rest of the Imperial Science Board properly confessed to plotting against the state to bother reading through their files.

 

“My whole life,” Nikola answered honestly. She could only assume he was trying to make small talk, though she supposed, considering their occupations, there was probably no such thing as a decent topic to discuss.

  
  
Karl glanced back her in surprise. “Seriously? You can’t be older than seventeen.” He knew of the existence of several black book projects which focused on training soldiers from young ages, but it had always struck him as odd. He’d come to believe such projects as resource sinks that never produced results worth their costs.

 

“Fifteen. Chiara’s fourteen,” the blonde girl corrected him. Considering birthdays were generally quite traumatizing to both girls, they resorted to mostly marking theirs on the calendar in order to mentally prepare for coming evaluations of their growth. However, the act allowed to them to cling to a small portion of their humanity regardless.

 

Karl glanced back at her from the rear view mirror. His brown eyes, which had been filled with anger, slowly saddened at her words. “Pointless, what a waste. Rest assured, we have put an end to such projects permanently.” It was a half-truth; the execution of all top scientist affiliated with Heinrich Belgar had ultimately gimped numerous fields of research, though not that the Commissariat cared as it was a small price to pay for retribution. Calmly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette but just chewed on it.

  
  
Nikola stared at him through the mirror. She couldn’t help but protest, “Lord Belgar worked really hard. We specifically … failed.” There was a coldness to her tone, which reminded Karl of Volker’s own empty cadence. To hear a girl who barely reached his chest speak so devoid of feeling filled the hardened Commissar with both an intense disgust and a twinge of sadness.

  
  
“I could care less. X-0 was always a den questionable types, and Heinrich should have been shot the moment he employed that Gallian defector,” Karl mumbled under his breath. He wasn’t sure if Nikola had heard him and chose to try a different approach, “Tell me, have you killed men?”

 

“Plenty,” Nikola answered immediately. It was the only question she felt she could answer without hesitation.

 

Something about her tone reminded Karl that the Commissariat had its work cut out for itself. His follow up question was logical. “Do you enjoy it?” He could guess the answer. The intense conditioning both girls must have gone through to even frustrate Volker with their resilience to his techniques was obvious.

  
  
“Am I not suppose to?” Nikola seemed surprised by the implication. “To watch the life drain out of someone is pleasurable.” The thought of killing someone brought a warmth to her chest and she started to smile softly. Slowly her eyes widened, “Do you not?”

 

“Can I really take pleasure in something that is so routine?” Karl chuckled darkly at the admission of his own monstrous nature. “I guess it’s just human nature to be desensitized to something you have done every day for nearly twenty-four years straight.”

 

Nikola gazed at him solemnly. “…Human nature?” she mused, looking out the window. The forest had broken once more to a small town as they passed through. Hardly any people were outside, it looked like. “I don’t really understand…” She clasped her hands together and rested them on her lap. Before Karl could answer, he slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a halt. Chiara’s eyes flew open and, upon realizing that Nikola had held her in place, she recoiled in embarrassment.

 

Nikola giggled. “I should have let you go through the windshield. I wonder how far you would have gone.” She couldn’t suppress the smile that the image of her companion smashing through the windshield brought. Chiara shot a glare at her and groaned in response, too groggy to form an insult.

  
  
“Do me a favor and jump off a bridge,” she bit back weakly after a moment of collecting herself. She had violently been pulled from her dreamless sleep and was a bit out of it.

 

In front of them was an imperial truck, and several soldiers wearing the non-marked black armor of the Commissariat guard were standing about. Several men in civilian dress were kneeling near the truck. A woman with long red hair, clad in the same black coat as Ludwig, was talking to one the soldiers nearby. As the strange woman turned to look at the car and started to smile, Nikola noticed the woman’s breastplate was far more battle worn than Karl’s own. It also was marked with an insignia Nikola did not recognize.

  
  
“Speaking of which.” Karl sighed in exasperation, reaching over to the seat next to him and grabbing his pistol. He checked to make sure it was loaded, then shot a look back at the two girls. “If you try to run, I won’t hesitate to shoot you both, too,” he warned before exiting the car.

  
  
“Y-yes, sir,” Both girls said quickly, seeing how serious the Commissar looked. They watched curiously as Karl made his way over to the woman. The two officers saluted each other by putting a hand over their heart. They then quickly became embroiled in an intense debate after only a minute of talking.

  
  
“What is that about?” Nikola mumbled, watching the scene unfold. The red-haired woman kept her hand on the hilt of her rapier, as if she were prepared for a fight. Nikola had never seen a woman in the military with any kind of meaningful authority, and she was more curious than she would ever admit.

  
  
“Who cares? You think they are going to shoot those men?” Chiara said excitedly, trying to get a better look. Soon it looked like Karl fell silent listening to the woman’s case, and slowly he removed a notepad while nodding. In a flash, the red-haired commissar grabbed one of the men and dragged him forward. What proceeded caused both girls’ eyes to widen. The woman started to mercilessly pummel the man in the middle of the street. The civilian tried to defend himself at first, but soon was overwhelmed. He seemed to be struggling just to keep his arms up to protect his face. However, she was unrelenting, and in a final act removed her sword, stabbing it through the man’s exposed neck. A stream of red dripped onto the dirt road.

 

“Wow… She’s pretty cool,” Chiara said, her eyes glittering with excitement. It was impossible to discern whether it was admiration for the woman or Chiara’s bloodlust revealing itself. Karl nodded and started to walk back to the car, but before opening the door one of the men tried to run. He started to sprint off to the right of the road. The soldiers brought their guns up, but Klara motioned for them to hold as Karl took aim with his sidearm. He exhaled and squeezed the trigger, bringing the fleeing man to the ground. Then the Commissar wordlessly got into the car as if it was just another day at the office.

 

As they drove by the scene, Chiara nearly climbed over Nikola as they both watched in amazement as the final two men had signs hung around their necks reading “I betrayed my country for scraps.” Looking back, they saw the men were then hung and briefly jerked around until their necks snapped.

 

Nikola was more curious about the brutal display she just witnessed. She couldn’t help but ask, “What was that about?”

 

Karl stayed silent for a moment before saying, “We are Commissars—the shield of the Empire. We have no tolerance for those who undermine our war effort.” Despite the zealotry in his words, he sounded physically exhausted.

  
  
Flipping his attention to Chiara he returned to his casual demeanor. “Rest well?” Having spoken to one of the kids simply made him curious to talk to the other.

 

Yawning in response, she asked, “How much longer?” Karl assured her only a few more miles. The woods had become thicker the farther away from the Imperial Capital they had driven.

 

Chiara, feeling as though she had missed something, asked, “What were you two talking about?” Nikola was already looking out the window again in boredom and ignored her question.

 

Karl cracked a crooked smile and jokingly said, “Your friend here said she’s killed more men than you.”

 

“Well, shes lying. I have killed nearly double,” Chiara huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back. Nikola started to protest, then frowned and reminded Chiara that some of those kills did not count. They spent the rest of the trip to the Lord Commissar’s house arguing over their respective body count. Finally, the two girls concluded that the total stood at Chiara being able to claim thirty-two, and Nikola holding thirty-seven. However, Chiara had managed to take down more tanks, which really piqued Karl’s interest at how such a small girl could take down armored beasts.

 

“How many men have you killed?” Nikola asked suddenly, directing the question to Karl.

 

He almost didn’t answer the question, but the two girls looked at him expectantly. “Hmm… Lets see. In the last month… Six hundred, I think?” Karl spoke vaguely. The aftermath of Schwartzgrad had been nothing short of a total mess. What he failed to clarify was the fact that most of the time he merely condemned men to death impersonally.

  
  
“Wow,” both girls said together almost in awe, clearly impressed by the idea one man could kill so many. In their brutal world, body count was the only thing that really matter. But to Karl, it really was just a job, which distracted him from his other hobbies and eroded his own humanity.

  
  
The rest of the ride was spent with Karl trying his best to answer a barrage of question about his technique. Nikola and Chiara felt if they replicated his own methodology they would earn someone’s praise. In the end, they decided to drop the topic all together; it seemed, he realized with a sick displeasure, that even their attitude towards death was still distinctly childish in its own twisted way. He was left with a distinct feeling of sympathy toward them. He made a mental note to pull the uncensored file on their training.


	3. Chapter 3

The two girls stood uncomfortably in the fully furnished study of Montgomery York. It was nestled deep in the mansion and, as a consequence, it lacked any windows. Instead, an absurd amount of hanging lanterns casted crawling shadows across the bookshelves that lined each wall. A massive portrait of one of the founding Emperors hung across from the door, separating the two sets of shelves. At least, Nikola was pretty sure it was an Emperor; her education in imperial history had been extremely short to her disappointment. Unlike Chiara, who was relieved when their education had been cut short for more combat training, Nikola had tried to find books in order to continue learning on her own time. Montgomery’s library was not as impressive as Belgar’s, but the dimly lit room was far less sterile and more inviting. Two couches sat across from each other with a mahogany coffee table in between them. A steaming teapot and three ornamental glass cups were carefully posed in the center, with a plate of various breads to its right.

 

Montgomery was busy engaged in conversation with a finely uniformed man. In contrast to the soldier standing across from him, Montgomery himself was casually dressed. Gone was his long overcoat and hat. Instead, he wore suspenders and a white button down shirt, though his grey military pants and boots had remained. He was leaning against his silver-headed cane, exasperatedly staring at the man. Nikola and Chiara managed to catch the end of their conversation.

 

Montgomery, clearly losing his patience, told the man curtly, “The situation may have changed, but your orders are the same.” He stamped his cane against the wooden floor. “If you continue to make excuses, then I have no further use for you.” He shouted at the man to get out of his house. The uniformed man hastily pushed passed the trio and exited the study.

 

Montgomery removed his glasses and wiped them off while talking to himself. “Incompetence. The situation is too precarious to back down now,” he said aloud, putting on his glasses. He turned to address the three other people in his room.

 

“Ah, yes, my new agents. Thank you, Karl.” He motioned for Nikola and Chiara to take a seat on one of the couches. Addressing Karl still, he said, “Go to my office. Remove every piece of paper filed under N-93 and burn them.” Karl, without saying a word, saluted by placing a fist over his heart and quickly left the room.

 

Montgomery sat down across from the two girls, skipping pleasantries and instead asking, “How did you two keep your subordinates in check with X-0?”

 

“Whipping,” Nikola responded, perhaps a bit too quickly.

  
  
“Beat a man enough and he stops complaining,” Chiara added. Montgomery looked unimpressed at such predictable answers.

  
  
“How droll,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Cruelty does little to inspire meaningful devotion.” He leaned forward, tapping his nose. “Loyalty is earned through strength of spirit and will. Abusing one’s subordinates leaves them unable to act without direction.”

 

Both girls exchanged awkward glances at the suggestion. Montgomery’s tone immediately changed as he leaned back and motioned to the table. “Please, help yourselves.”

 

Nikola reached forward and shakily picked up the glass teapot. Her nerves were shot, and the dishes clattered nosily as she poured herself a cup. Chiara, stomach growling, quickly set upon the bread without restraint, shoving a pastry into her mouth and holding another. She chewed noisily. Montgomery watched her movements with bored detachment. Nikola maintained her manners and brought cup of tea to her lips to take a sip.

  
  
“It’s… smoky?” she said, confused. The taste was odd, but it was nice to have something warm to drink.

  
  
“Indeed it is. An imported blend from the East. Do you like it?” Montgomery turned his gaze onto the blonde girl. Chiara had started to pour herself a cup as well.

  
  
“I can’t really say,” Nikola said hopelessly. Prolonged adjustments had resulted in her being unable to taste anything less than strongly-flavored foods. Montgomery frowned at her answer and looked over at Chiara, who was taking a sip.

  
  
She slouched back into the couch and took another sip. Her eyes widened. “Its strong. I like it.” Montgomery nodded with approval at her statement.

 

“Let’s get down to business,” Montgomery said finally, reaching under the coffee table and pulling out two manila folders. Both girls watched with visible worry.

 

He placed the folders on the table. “These are your files. Commissar Manfred found them while searching Heinrich’s office.” While pouring himself a cup he added, “There is a lot of personal information in there. I suspect it might be of interest to you both.” Nikola placed her cup on the table and picked up the folders. Within each folder was at least twenty pages, including handwritten notes from Heinrich Belgar himself. She placed Chiara’s folder on the center of the couch. The other girl did not budge, continuing instead to sip on her tea.

 

Nikola opened her folder, but before reading anything, Montgomery spoke again. “I have already flipped through them, and I have one primary concern.” Nikola’s gaze flickered up for a moment, but rather than responding, she looked back at the folder.

 

“Oh, yeah?” Chiara said, refusing to open her folder. She crossed her legs impatiently. “And what is that?”

  
  
“The final major update underscores the surgical placement of a low-yield ragnite explosive into subject’s side,” Montgomery sounded surprised more then anything else. At being reminded of their final adjustment, Nikola gingerly touched her side as the feeling of nausea settled in her stomach. Chiara started to nervously bite her thumbnail while clutching her tea cup in her other hand.

 

Neither girl moved to say anything, merely exchanging worried glances. Montgomery took sip of his tea and said, “I was able to find both detonators in your confiscated equipment. Truth be told, you are extremely lucky they were not pressed.”

 

Now both girls were visibly scared. Nikola felt her hands start to shake and she gripped her folder so hard the papers crumpled under her nails. Chiara stood up angrily, teacup clattering against the table as she set the cup down. “Give them back then!” she demanded with her voice raised. She looked ready to jump over the table.

  
  
Unbothered by Chiara’s demand, Montgomery simply continued on, “Rest assured. They have already been deactivated.” Chiara immediately looked relieved and Nikola felt a similar feeling wash over her. The younger girl fell back down on the couch.

 

“However, the bombs themselves will kill you if they remain. Long term exposure to ragnite can have odd effects on a body,” he said matter-of-factly. This time, Montgomery stood up and walked over to one of the shelves. He pulled a heavy leather bound book out from the third shelf and opened it.

 

“Kill… us,” Nikola mumbled quietly under her breath, feeling a creeping cold slowly move up her legs. The thought left her feeling anxious as she struggled to accept it.

 

“So that is how it was going to be.. Of course it was..” Chiara muttered, crossing her arms.

  
  
Montgomery flipped through the text as he spoke, “I know a surgeon who can remove them. She’s rather unorthodox, but I have a feeling she can handle a case like this one.”

 

Chiara looked up, face brightening. “Wait, you’re serious?” The bomb had caused her to be unable to relax at all the last few months. It served as a constant reminder of her inability to complete her orders.

 

Nikola hesitantly asked, “Why are you doing all this?”

  
  
Chiara realized it all sounded too good to be true and echoed the statement. Montgomery turned around and limped back to the couch. He place the book on the table: _Ragnite and its Properties_ by Albert Miller. The book looked vaguely familiar, yet neither girl could place were they’d seen it. Montgomery took another drink of tea and picked up a piece of bread.

  
  
“A weak man demands unthinking obedience from his subordinates. Failure is to be expected in war.” He took a bite of bread and chewed quietly for a moment. Then he continued, “I am not a weak man. Tactics can be changed, strategies adjusted, but competent soldiers are not easily replaced.” The words settled heavily on both girls.

  
  
“Failure is to be expected?” Nikola mused, looking down at the floor. It was a starkly different attitude the Lord Belgar’s own. Montgomery’s words were totally alien to her.

  
  
“I don’t get it,” Chiara said bluntly.

 

Montgomery clarified, “If I shot every man under my command who failed to complete their missions, the final act of the tragic comedy would be having to shoot myself for incompetence. Would it have not been my orders which were the blame for the failures of my men?” Silence settled over the room. Nikola started to read through her folder again. It contained detailed information about the combat training and adjustments she had received. She recognized Lord Belgar’s handwriting on a note clipped to one of the reports.

 

_Proper adjustments are always tricky to administer. One has to be careful not to overload the subject’s brain when using such a high voltage or risk a permanent vegetative state. Surgical changes put enormous stress on the body as well, but at least Subject One exhibits a vacant state of mind in recovery yet snaps to attention the moment I speak. So I must conclude that this initial test confirms my original hypothesis. To be certain, I must attempt to replicate the process with Subject Two._

 

The cold sterile nature of all the notes served as strange reminder of home, causing Nikola to shut the folder and squeeze her eyes shut. She sighed, and upon opening her eyes realized that both Montgomery and Chiara were looking at her.

  
  
“Hey, Nikola. Are you alright?” Chiara said with a hint of concern, but she made no further moves to comfort her partner.

 

“Yeah. I am fine.” Nikola said, regaining her empty demeanor.

  
  
Montgomery stood up again. “Listen, I am a busy man. Shall we pick this up tomorrow?” He started to walk toward the door but stopped to stare at them, turning up his nose. “...Feel free to use the servant’s bath in the back to clean up. I will have your uniforms left with one of the servants. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned and left without another word. His cane could be heard tapping down the hall and the two girls were left alone in the study.

 

Nikola glanced at Chiara. Chiara stuck her tongue out at the door, but they both felt pretty excited about the idea of finally being able to take a bath after… however long they’d been in that prison. Now that he’d mentioned it, Nikola was starting to feel pretty aware of just how grimy they’d gotten, though when she looked back over at her comrade, the other girl simply returned to chewing on a pastry.

  
  
The two sat in silence, quietly drinking tea and finishing off the bread. Even through the calm atmosphere, they were both tense just sitting alone together. Nikola turned her attention back to her personal file. The information within was extremely troubling even for the emotionally stunted girl; her expression, though, remained flat. Some of the things listed in her file she hardly remembered; others, though, were vivid in her memory. She reached the last page, only to find one final note from Belgar pinned to it.

 

_I have applied the final adjustment to Subject One. Once somewhat lucid, it started to thank me profusely for my decision to it another chance. Though I have no doubt that more adjustments will be necessary in time. I must be careful, its body is at its physical limit; as for its mind, its mannerisms suggest it is now incapable of thinking outside basic commands. I must congratulate myself on the success. Subject One is truly a masterpiece and I am sure the Vinnish will be pleased with it. Unfortunate I can only take one. Subject Two will have to be retired permanently._

  

Nikola closed the folder in stunned silence. A stabbing pain in her chest caused her to grit her teeth at being reminded at Lord Belgar’s intent to defect to Vinland. That without Chiara, Nikola was going to be totally alone and completely at his mercy. Her vision was starting to blur as she felt terror rush through her mind; she shook her head violently as if to purge the disloyal thoughts. Lord Belgar loved her—she was his best work after all, and Nikola knew she had to be grateful.

 

Chiara was sitting entirely still, staring intently at the closed folder sitting in front of her on the table. She had picked it up, but then placed it back on the table without opening it. She was back to anxiously biting her thumb. A battle was raging in inside her about whether she really wanted to know the contents of the folder.

 

In an instant she exclaimed, “Gah! I need to know!” She picked up the folder and opened it.

 

Nikola reached out and said, “Chiara, wait.”

 

Chiara shot her an annoyed glare. “You read yours!”

 

Nikola furrowed her brow, then shrugged. “Fine. Don’t get mad if you do not like what it says.” A part of Nikola’s sadistic nature was bleeding through; she impulsively gave in to the curiosity to watch Chiara’s reaction.

 

“I won’t,” Chiara said defensively, hunching over the folder as she placed it in her lap. She started to read the through the files and almost immediately regretted it. Each page was marked up with notes expressing disappointment at Chiara’s inability to fully adapt to her adjustments.

 

_So far, despite meticulously following my original blueprint, Subject Two displays an independence undesirable for the purposes of this project. Too much initiative taken during combat and a tendency toward insubordination all serve to give me reason to think there is an error in my data somewhere. For now I will be transferring Subject Two to Subject One’s control. Perhaps it will be a limiting factor of sorts._

  

Fed up with reading and distressed at Belgar’s notes, Chiara skipped to the final page in the folder. Nikola watched with cold emptiness as Chiara’s face drooped even more.

 

_Subject Two is slated for retirement. I have no desire to waste anymore time on this specific project._

  

The burning sensation returned to the back of Chiara’s. She began to fidget erratically, eyes wide, before suddenly leaning forward and slamming her head into the coffee table with all her strength. Her head thudded against the wood, causing cups to clatter and a bit of tea to spill onto the table. Whimpering like a wounded animal, Chiara whispered to herself, “I tried to be good… really, I did.”

 

“Stupid. I told you not to read it,” Nikola grumbled unsympathetically. However, hearing Chiara whimper to herself, Nikola felt a little sorry for her companion.

 

Gently she moved over closer. Trying to be comforting Nikola said, “Lord Belgar loved us both.” The words were entirely hollow, and a small seed of doubt had managed to plant itself even in her mind.

 

“No, No. No, you are wrong!” Chiara insisted as she jerked up and dizzily steadied herself with the arm of the couch. “He loved you. I was nothing but a disappointment.” The disrespectful words surprised even the impulsive girl and she almost tried to catch them before they left her mouth. Glaring at Nikola, Chiara pointed at the folders, “Read those again, stop being dense.”

 

“I won’t. This is why you were always the problem,” Nikola said cruelly. She matched Chiara’s glare. “You always rush to the wrong conclusion. After everything, how can you condemn Lord Belgar so easily?”

 

“Why are you so quick to defend him?” Chiara shot back, raising her voice. It was not that Chiara did not love Belgar; in fact, her mind still grappled with how she was suppose to feel about the whole situation. Underneath her incoherent rage was the simple fact that she had not been able to follow through with her final order. This idea in Chiara’s mind meant, regardless if Belgar had survived or not, she was already dead.

  
  
“Because Lord Belgar raised us! He took care of us!” Nikola’s anger bubbled up past her cool exterior temporarily, and she started to yell. How could Chiara just ignore everything Lord Belgar had done for them both?

 

She stood up, refusing to back down, and shouted again, “All he asked is we carried out his orders!” She paused and pointed a finger at Chiara, “And _you_ couldn’t do it!”

 

Chiara’s eyes widened and she jumped up and screamed back, “How can you say that!? If we had done things my way we would have never been in this mess!” The two girls stared daggers at each other. Chiara was visibly shaking and ready to kill.

 

“Your way!? It was your idea to attack the centurion! It was your fault, Chiara!” Nikola was screaming now. Her eyes narrowed and she moved closer toward Chiara.

  
  
Nikola was not finished and, stomping her foot, the words continued to spill out of her mouth. “You are always so stupid! Lord Belgar gave you everything! You would have been nothing without him!” She kicked the coffee table, causing two of the tea cups to clatter to the ground.

 

“Stop making excuses for him!” Chiara gritted her teeth and moved forward a step. “Are you saying I should have just died?!” Time seemed to stand still in the room. Deep down underneath all the anger, both girls knew neither wanted to hurt the other. However, every repressed feeling and fear came flooding out in an instant.

  
  
“That is what Lord Belgar wanted you to do! This is why I hate you! Why couldn’t you have just followed that simple order!?” Nikola screeched and lunged at Chiara, who quickly jumped to the side dodging her.

 

Nikola clawed at Chiara’s face and howled, “You failed!” But she could not continue before Chiara punched her square in the jaw. The force of the punch caused Nikola to bite bite down on her tongue. She could taste blood in her mouth. The wound was nothing, though, and freeing her hand she slammed a fist into Chiara’s side. Not finished, Nikola bucked the other girl onto the floor.

 

Chiara fell backwards and knocked her head against the coffee table, but she was on her feet once more. She regained her momentum, shouting unintelligibly, and crashed her full body weight into her opponent. They struggled with each other and inevitably ended up on the floor again.

 

The commotion from inside the study was so loud that both Karl and Montgomery could hear the screaming from the other side of the house. Montgomery cited his leg as to why he was not checking on the girls. He then ruminated on the fact he had not met with them outside. His coffee table was quite valuable. Karl considered intervening but decided he valued his life, so instead he turned up the radio and went back to reading reports.

 

Nikola and Chiara were both ferocious fighters. Thanks to their unforgiving training, they both possessed a nearly limitless supply of stamina. It took hours of savage beatings for either of them to even start to slow down. Their adjustments had left them both unable to process pain normally. By the time they were both ready to collapse, the study was in ruins. Books were strewn about on the floor and the coffee table had been broken in half. Shards of glass from the ornamental cups were everywhere.

 

Nikola’s head was spinning so badly she had to close her eyes to avoid throwing up. A small trickle of blood was streaming down the side of her face. She lay on her back breathing heavily, as it hurt for her to even sit up.

 

“I think… you knocked out one my teeth,” Nikola gasped in between breaths. She tested opening her eyes, but quickly shut them again as the whole ceiling seemed to recede.

 

Next to her, Chiara leaned against the side of the couch, clutching her arm. She crudely spat blood out of her mouth on the floor.

 

“Whats the matter? Going to cry?” Chiara said mockingly, then quickly grimaced. “God, Nikola, I think you broke something,” she whined.

 

“Good, you obnoxious sow,” Nikola spat out, still unable to sit up. A silence descended on the study again. Nothing besides their breathing could be heard. Eventually, Nikola groaned as she managed to sit up. She dragged herself to the bookshelf and leaned against it. The two girls were now staring at each other. Chiara met Nikola’s cold stare with a rather weak smirk.

 

Suddenly Nikola started to laugh hysterically, which in turned caused her to clutch her side in pain. After a moment she said, “Just like training.”

 

“You are getting soft, Nikola,” Chiara sneered, still clutching her arm. “I am still conscious.” Similar fights usually had resulted in one of them having an extended stay in the infirmary.

 

“Oh yeah? Well, your punches were so weak I thought I was fighting Forseti,” Nikola shot back with a crude grin.

 

Chiara shot her an angry glare and growled, “Don’t even joke about that.” They had answered Forseti’s total disgust with their existence with childish jokes behind his back.

 

Nikola started to laugh again. Once more she felt a stabbing pain in her side and felt faint.

  
  
“What is so funny?” Chiara demanded, also struggling to find a position to sit in which would be less agonizing.

  
  
“Thank god we were too old for him,” Nikola said, trying to stand up but quickly finding herself on the floor again.

  
  
It would been a comical scene had anyone been watching. Every few minutes one of them would try to stand and collapse back onto the floor. Both were much too proud to ask help.

 

Cracking a smile, Chiara said, “Remember that time we stole his cane? Jerk hobbled around on one foot for nearly an hour.” She leaned her head against the finely upholstered arm of the couch. She uncomfortably remembered Forseti’s last words to her.

 

“Jerk,” she said aloud again, clenching her fists. “He failed too,” she added angrily. She punched her fists together and winced. “I should have killed him for it myself.”

  
  
Lightening the atmosphere Nikola replied, “I remember when he tried to report us to Lord Belgar.” They both laughed remembering how incompetent Forseti had looked, accusing them both of harassment. Even Belgar had brushed the accusation aside, tired of being interrupted.

 

“What about Crymaria’s hat?” Nikola asked, looking over at Chiara.

 

“I thought she was going to kill us both,” Chiara giggled fiendishly. “At least that stupid wolf was going to,” she added, finally able to relax her arm.

  
  
“I don’t know, Chiara. You and that wolf had a lot in common,” Nikola said jokingly. “You both were two loudest crew members on the ship,” she added with a smirk.

  
  
“Shut up!” Chiara said sticking out her tongue at Nikola.

 

The study was soon alive with spirited discussion as they continued to swap stories about various pranks they had pulled on other members of X-0. The stories were soothing to both girls’ troubled spirits and the soon found themselves excitedly reminiscing about better times. Unsurprisingly, they quickly ran out of happy memories and fell silent again

 

“Do you really hate me, Nikola?” Chiara asked rather meekly. The question hung in the air and Nikola remained silent in thought for a moment.

  
  
“No. Of course not, idiot.” Nikola glanced at her. She gradually pulled herself up onto her feet. Slowly she limped over to Chiara and offered her a hand. Together they dragged themselves to the sofa. Neither of them moved or spoke after flopping onto the cushions. Quietly Nikola added, “You did save me, after all.”

  
  
“I just do not understand how you can blame Lord Belgar,” she added, still whispering.

  
  
“I just– I do not know how to feel,” Chiara said honestly, frustrated their conversation had come full circle. She had been fully prepared to drop it entirely. “I am grateful that he took me in, I really am,” she continued amidst her companion’s silence, sounding unusually coherent. “Nikola. If you really loved him, why did you stay with me? He would have taken you back.”

 

Nikola had to stop and considered the question. With a sigh she simply said, “I failed.” The truth hung heavily in the air. “And… I didn’t want to leave you,” she said solemnly. She felt desperate need to tell her lifelong companion in misery how much she really did mean to her. The Federation girl’s last words had haunted Nikola ever since.

 

She pushed herself onto her feet and stood over Chiara. “We are a pretty good team.”

 

Chiara opened her eyes, surprised by the statement, but quickly looked away. “I guess we are…”

 

Nikola offered a hand to her and said, “If Lord Belgar really is gone, then we only have each other.” Chiara took her outstretched hand, and Nikola pulled the girl to her feet. The blonde girl continued with a smile, “Maybe we will go to meet him one day.”

 

Chiara shuddered at the thought. “No thanks. You can go see him on your own.” Leaning against each other, they hobbled their way toward the door. She said, “God, that old man better have been serious about the bath.”

 

It took them an unreasonable amount of time to locate the servants’ quarters within Montgomery’s grandiose house. Finally they found it nestled at the back of the first floor, and to their relief it was entirely empty. Upon entering the bathroom both girls let out an audible gasp and looked at each other amazed. The white marble floor lined an in-ground bath which was easily big enough for four people. Hot steam gently floated to the top of the room suggesting the water was still hot. The bathroom was the largest they had ever seen. That wasn’t saying much, though, considering they were both used to cold showers that lasted only a few minutes.

 

In an instant, Chiara had stripped out of her prison rags and rushed to the tub. She let out an excited yelp as she slid into the water. Nikola slowly undressed and folder her clothes, placing them on the wooden bench at the door. Then she calmly walked over and slid into the water. She shivered once and relaxed as the hot water reached the top of her shoulders.

  
  
They both occupied themselves with happily cleaning off all the dirt and grime that had caked onto their bodies in the last few months. Chiara enthusiastically scrubbed her face until it was immaculate.

  
  
“Scrub hard enough and maybe you might just remove all the ugly,” Nikola teased. Chiara stopped cleaning her face for a second and splashed water at Nikola.

 

“Yeah, and maybe if you scrubbed harder that hideous mole would come off,” she fired back, clearly proud of the insult.

 

“Why, you—” Nikola immediately kicked up water at Chiara, who dunked her head to avoid the wave.

 

Wasting no time, Nikola quickly came over to Chiara and held the girl under the water, still giggling happily as if it was just a game. The water splashed as the other girl struggled, before Nikola felt a kick to her shin and slipped.

 

Chiara came out of the water sputtering and gasping for air. She was ready to give her partner the same treatment, but hesitated as her eyes drifted over to the other girl, who’d stood up. Nikola was standing in the waist-high water, and in the well lit room both girls’ could clearly see the scars which were methodically placed across each of their bodies. All of them were identical in length and placement; however, Chiara couldn’t help focus on the most recent addition. Underneath Nikola’s chest on the left hand side was a small surgical incision where the bullet from the last battle had embedded itself.

 

With a noticeably pained expression Chiara muttered, “We no longer match…”

 

Nikola looked down at her own body and wordlessly covered the wound before quietly sliding back down into the water. She stopped as the water reached her chin. “Its nothing to worry about.”

 

Quietly, Chiara walked over and sank into the water next to Nikola. “Did it hurt?”

  
  
“A lot,” Nikola said softly. She winced as her mind briefly flashed back to the Centurion and shook her head.

 

The admission felt odd for Chiara to hear. She always kind of looked up to Nikola’s unemotional nature. However, neither girl said anything further. Soon enough they both turned their attention to clean themselves up again. After another hour of soaking in silence, both girls were satisfied that they had managed to wash off the weight of Schwartzgrad and climbed out of the bath to dry off.

 

Both were surprised, however, to find their old uniforms from X-0 neatly folded beside the sink, complete with red and purple berets. Notably, any insignia related to the Imperial Science Board had been removed, along with brass heraldry that linked the purple collars. In place of the pin that once adorned their berets was a simple silver engraved kite shield with a bird perched on a blade. Neither girl recognized the symbolism.

  
  
Chiara slid herself into the uniform and sighed in relief. It fit like a second skin, comfortably to her small form, though she found the knit cloth to only be a tad loose after her time in prison. She then clipped on her pieces of leather armor. She excitedly checked the quiver before hooking to to her belt and muttered disappointedly, “Guess it was too much to hope he would give dunkel back, too.” Their schatten grenades were also missing which, of all things, was not surprising considering Chiara had used up all of hers in the battle.

  
  
Nikola was busy lacing up her left boot and commented, “Our knives are gone too.” She picked up the purple beret and, realizing her head was still damp, elected to hold on to it. “I guess he doesn’t quite trust us to not kill him,” she said, spinning the beret on her finger. A note fell out of and Nikola bent over to pick it up.

 

Chiara, unbothered by the dampness of her hair, placed the red beret atop her head. She glanced over as she adjusted her cap. “What now?”

 

“York says we can sleep in the guest bedroom,” Nikola flatly, wondering why the Lord Commissar was so willing to treat them with such respect.

 

The problem was the note did not specify where the guest bedroom was located in the vast mansion, so the two girls wandered around for nearly an hour looking for it. Finally they ran into Karl, who they found sleeping with his feet up in a chair near the front of the mansion. However, he too had no idea where the guest bedroom was located. He mentioned something about it being a new house. The three them searched the residence and finally flung open a door which, to their collective relief, led to an unoccupied bedroom. Karl wished them goodnight and disappeared.

 

Both girls gasped at the lavishly decorated room. It was much smaller than the study but still was a testament to opulence—or at least Montgomery’s love of interior decorating. Neither girl had ever experienced such luxury. A glass chandelier illuminated the whole room. The wallpaper was a deep blue and lined with white accenting. A small table was nestled in the corner with a chair next to it, and a massive ornamental rug boasting the imperial heraldry nearly took up the whole floor. There was just one problem.

  
  
“Nikola. There is only one bed,” Chiara said awkwardly. It was true. The double bed which sat across from the door was draped in deep blue silk covers.

 

“You can sleep on the floor, then,” Nikola said cruelly, already making her way toward the bed.

 

“Like hell!” Chiara said, shoving Nikola down. She ran and jumped on the bed. Neither girl was planning to part with their uniforms—they were effectively a second skin for both girls. They did take the time to shed some of the leather armor, though, at least to sleep.

 

“Ah, Nikola, its so soft!” Chiara exclaimed happily as she sunk into the mattress. Anything was softer then their metal framed bunk beds on the Magnus.

  
  
“Move over,” Nikola said, climbing onto the bed. She was going to push Chiara off, but her attention was drawn to a book sitting on the side table. She crawled over and picked it up. It was wide, hardback and leather-bound. She ran her hands over it curiously.

  
  
“Hm? What is it?” Chiara asked, glancing at her comrade’s back.

 

“ _The Art of Lecca._ ” Nikola replied, opening it. It was full of pictures from the peninsula. She found herself oddly drawn to the colorful visuals.

 

“Looks boring.” Chiara said rather childishly turning her attention back to the ceiling above which provided no more mental stimulation then the book in Nikola’s hand. Bored she rolled over on her side and while playing with a fold in the plush blanket said, “We aren’t going to be retired anymore right?

  
  
Nikola stopped trying to interpret the weird pictures in front of her, and quietly shut the book, returning it to the side table. Morose she took a deep breath before mumbling, “I – I don’t know. It seems Lord Commissar York has something in mind for us.” She sounded more like she wanted to convince herself more than reassure her comrade.

 

Chiara exhaled in frustration at the uncertainty of the entire situation. It felt like they hadn’t gotten a break since they failed in capturing the Centurion on the Crystal Sea. She rolled over and curled up in the blanket, feeling exhaustion wash over her. Nikola looked over and saw Chiara softly breathing and, with a sigh, turned off the light. She returned to the bed and laid down, staring at the ceiling and waiting for a fitful sleep to come.

 

\--

 

Nikola was already awake when she heard the sound of a knock on the hard wood door and made her way toward the door. Chiara, still dead to the world, continued to sleep soundly with her red beret pulled down over her face. She snored loudly. Nikola slowly opened the door and was relieved to find it was Karl.

 

“Oh, thank the Emperor it's the right room,” Karl grumbled haggardly. He had deep bags under his eyes that suggested he had not slept well at all. He was already in full commissar dress and Nikola squinted to examine it more closely. It was a black wool trench coat that cut off at his shin. Underneath was a plain black breastplate devoid of accenting, clearly for the purpose of protection. Observantly, she also noticed a holstered pistol peeking out from under his shoulder. Previously she had though the uniform had no meaningful symbols, but was surprised to find there was actually a single insignia which resembled the pin now on her beret.

 

“Good morning, Ms. Graf,” he spoke oddly formal.

  
  
“It’s just Nikola,” she replied flatly. “What is it?”

  
  
“We have to leave in a few hours. Be ready.” He scratched his beard and added, “I asked the servants to bring you both breakfast. How do you like your coffee?”

 

Nikola looked at him confused and repeated, “Coffee?” The two girls had few luxuries in their short lives. On the Magnus they mostly existed off of a gray nutrient paste which ensured they received only the basic amount of nutrition to keep them going. Karl looked at her in surprise.

  
  
“You are kidding, right?” he asked incredulously. Nikola shook her head. “I guess it doesn’t matter.” He sighed and turned to leave.

  
  
“Wait,” Nikola stopped him. He turned around. “Could you explain something to me?” tentatively she asked, leaving the door open and walking back into the room. Karl followed her curiously.

  
  
She picked up the book of art and brought it back to Karl. She handed it to him and muttered, “I do not understand it.”

  
  
He raised an eyebrow, opening the book. He flipped through it and finally said, “What is there to understand? Its art.”

  
  
She gave him a look, somewhere between confused and frustrated, which prompted him to continue, “What? Art is a pretty personal thing. It’s about how you feel.” He shrugged, handing the book to back to her. “Montgomery could probably tell you more about the artists. He has an eye for the stuff.” Truth was, Karl had a passionate hobby for photography, but had little interest in the act of painting.

  
  
“Feel... Feel what?” Nikola pressed him, still not catching on. Karl sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to explain it. He walked over and sat down at the small table in the corner. Nikola sat across from him. He flipped to a picture of a serene meadow, with rolling hills that were dotted with red and white flowers. He showed it to Nikola.

  
  
“What do you think?” he asked.

  
  
She studied the painting for a moment, then sat back and said simply, “It’s grass.” Though her face was blank, Karl could tell she was trying to think about it.

  
  
“Nothing else?” he asked. She shook her head, which elicited a sigh. “Don’t tell Montgomery,” he said jokingly. He thought for a moment and then flipped to another painting.

  
  
“Alright, how about this one? It's a darker piece,” he said, pushing the book over to her. Nikola looked down intently at the piece. It depicted a smoldering castle and a field dotted with the bodies of soldiers. Guns and shattered equipment were strewn about the ground. Nikola stared at the painting and her eyes were drawn to a single standing soldier. He clutched a torn flag she did not recognize and was on his knees. She looked down and read the title _The Brother’s War._

  
  
“Well?” Karl asked, curious about how the troubled girl would react.

  
  
“Its nice. I like this one,” she spoke quietly, still staring at the painting. She started to trace the outline of each soldier with her finger. The depiction of death in such a simple manner interested her. “What was the brother’s war?” she finally asked, wanting to know more about the painting.

  
  
“I am no historian, but the Kingdom of Lecca had a pretty violent civil war. Nearly forty percent of the population perished during it. Well, before our founding Emperor saw fit to involve us,” Karl said. “Does it make you feel something?”

  
  
“I don’t know,” Nikola said with a sigh. “Maybe?” Something about the picture resonated with her, but she could not describe the feeling. It was the same feeling she had felt briefly in Schwartzgrad as Chiara ran from the battlefield.

 

Karl shrugged and replied, “Not knowing how you feel is better than nothing at all.” A knock on the door caused Nikola to jump. Karl stood up and opened it. The servants brought in a covered platter and a steel pot of steaming coffee. Nikola decided to wake up Chiara, who still was resting motionlessly. Cruelly, Nikola picked up a pillow and placed it softly over Chiara’s face. Karl watched them without a word, fascinated by the two girls’ relationship.

  
  
In an instant, Chiara shot up clearly panicked. She looked around wildly and, realizing Nikola was the culprit, swung at her. Nikola blocked the punch without even flinching and giggled.

  
  
“Breakfast is ready,” she said with a smile. Chiara scowled but got out of bed. Karl stood up, prepared to excuse himself but Nikola said, “I still have other questions.” He looked at her for a moment and sat down.

 

The three of them sat at the small corner table; Nikola and Chiara sat across from each other while Karl stood near the doorway smoking.

 

“This is amazing!” Chiara said loudly after taking her first bite of the waffle. She started to scarf down the rest of her meal in earnest.

 

Karl laughed and said, “It's better with honey.” Chiara looked at the jar full of honey curiously. She shakily drizzled some onto the waffle and took another bite. Her whole face lit up and she let out a small squeak.

 

Meanwhile, Nikola seemed more fascinated by the coffee. She stirred it slowly at first then held it under her nose. She then took a small sip, and to her shock she could taste the dark roasted drink.

  
  
“Ah, it tastes good,” she said with a small smile. The taste was pleasantly bitter, and the almost uncomfortable warmth of the mug felt satisfying to hold. Chiara, not to be outdone, turned her attention to the cup next to her hand.

  
  
She picked it up and took a big gulp. “You’re right,” Chiara said excitedly. Karl tapped out a cigarette from the carton in his pocket and lit it as they ate. He found himself enjoying each girl’s reaction to discovering the wonders of breakfast food for the first time, though the implications left him feeling unsettled. He reached into his pocket to pull out a bronze pocket watch and flipped it open.

  
  
“You wanted to ask me something,” Karl prompted after taking a drag from his cigarette.

  
  
“Right,” Nikola said, putting down her cup. Chiara continued to eat noisily, totally oblivious.

  
  
“Can you explain what your actual job is?” Nikola asked. “I had never heard of a Commissar until now.” Being under Belgar’s thumb meant neither girl had ever been familiar with how the Empire operated. All that mattered was that when he told them to kill, they did so without question.

 

Karl looked at her and scratched his chin. “No surprise there, I doubt Heinrich would have told you about us.” He blew out smoke then added, “Simply put we are the pillar that keeps our great Empire upright.” He considered elaborating, but struggled to think of what to say.

 

“So are you a soldier?” Chiara asked, chewing on a mouthful of waffle. Nikola continued to watch Karl’s face closely.

 

“No. We have no relation to the military anymore, although a few of us were at one point soldiers,” Karl answered truthfully.

 

Chiara swallowed her food and then asked, “Will I still get to kill people?” Her one track mind was obvious.

  
  
“Montgomery would never consider wasting your talents,” Karl said reassuringly. He wondered if either girl really understood what death really meant. Satisfied with his response, Chiara turned her attention back to the plate in front of her, only to discover she had finished her waffle. Disappointed, she started to nurse her cup of coffee.

  
“So wait did you know Lord Belgar?” Nikola finally asked. Karl looked at her face and found it unreadable, but he figured the question was important.

  
  
“I knew of him. Never had the displeasure of meeting him personally,” Karl said with a shrug. He paused for a moment. “Just know this: no one in our organization holds Heinrich in high regard. For your own safety, I suggest you drop it,” Karl continued, speaking cryptically. It was not quite that simple; even he was not entirely sure the extent of the two men’s relationship. Karl checked his watch again and told the girls to meet him outside in an hour. He excused himself from the room.

  
  
While Chiara finished off her plate of food, Nikola went back to flipping through the art book. They really did not have anything to talk about, so they instead sat in a tentatively companionable silence. A few minutes before they had to leave, Chiara stood up and reached into her pocket, pulling out a string with green and blue beads. She slowly tied her a few strands on the left side of her hair together. Nikola watched her silently.

  
  
“I am surprised you kept them this long,” she finally said after Chiara finished. They had been a gift Nikola had given Chiara after her first adjustment. Even when their relationship began to fall apart, Chiara had never stopped wearing the beads.

  
  
“I like them,” Chiara said simply. They finished up quickly and decided to go find Karl and Montgomery.

 

The two commissars were standing on a wooden patio separate from the house when Chiara and Nikola walked out. The morning sun was rising up from the trees, illuminating the dew covered grass. The two girls stayed back, deciding to eavesdrop for a moment.

  
  
“Why can’t there ever be good news anymore?” Montgomery sighed, holding his cane out in front of him like a sword.

  
  
“Come on, Montgomery. This is exactly the excuse you have been looking for,” Karl said flippantly, reading a report in front of him. “Do you think we should finally get involved?” he asked aloud. Neither girl knew what the men were talking about.

  
  
“Yes. Have Ulyana remove both parties,” Montgomery answered, bringing his cane back down onto the ground. Karl made a quick note on the paper.

 

“The army has once again accused us of over-stepping our authority,” Karl mused after shuffling to the next page and reading off from the paper in front of him.

  
  
“They fear being brought to justice as all criminals do,” Montgomery said with a frown. He leaned on his cane.

 

Nikola and Chiara were almost going to reveal themselves when the Lord Commissar asked, “What do you think of our newest agents?”

 

Karl closed the report and placed it on the table next to him. “I read their file. I fail to see what purpose such a project served in the first place.”

 

Montgomery laughed. It was an unsettling sound; the two girls shared a nervous glance.

  
  
“Perhaps there was no purpose, dear Ludwig.” Montgomery put a hand on Karl’s shoulder and continued, “Knowing Heinrich, this all could have simply been to satisfy some needless curiosity of his. Unfortunately the project ran its course, but that does not mean we can’t benefit from his delusion.” He paused and said, “Consider such an excessive abuse of authority a symptom of the greater disease.”

  
  
“The Emperor himself approved it. It was not just the action of one rogue doctor,” Karl reminded him, extinguishing his cigarette and flicking it away.

 

“That senile old fool stopped serving this Empire a long time ago. All he cares about anymore is pointless legends,” Montgomery said. He turned around suddenly, tapping his cane on the ground. “How long do you both plan to stand there?” Both girls timidly revealed themselves, surprised he had noticed them. Would they be punished for eavesdropping?

 

Montgomery looked at them appraisingly. “You two are quite skilled at hiding your presence. That is a useful talent.”

 

Both girls looked at him stunned. It was bizarre to be praised for doing something they probably were not supposed to. Chiara hesitated for a moment, then spoke up. “Of course we are.” She smiled confidently. Nikola stayed silent, but stood up a bit straighter.

 

Montgomery’s attitude quickly changed, and he furrowed his brow. “You both left my study in quite a mess.”

 

Chiara shrugged. “It was an ugly coffee table anyway.” She leaned forward smugly, folding her arms behind her back.

 

“Hideous,” Nikola said, nodding in agreement. She almost thought Montgomery was going to hit her with his cane. However, he remained firmly planted to the ground.

  
  
“It was not. You two have no sense of design,” Montgomery said, clearly annoyed. Karl reminded him they had work to do, and not to get into this kind of argument.

 

“Right. Lets get down to business,” Montgomery said exasperatedly. He was ready to have the two troubled girls out of his hair.

 

He calmly explained the general process going forward. First, Karl would be taking them to the surgeon’s small practice outside the capital to remove the low-yield ragnite bombs, a thought that left both girls feeling anxious. Once they had fully recovered, Karl would drive them north to the border of the Nord Republic where their new command center was located. Apparently several other hand-picked soldiers were already there organizing the new squad for Nikola and Chiara’s arrival.

 

“So, that is it then?” Chiara asked with her hands on her hips.

 

“Actually, I need a name for your new unit,” Montgomery said, ceasing the tapping of his cane.

 

“Name?” Nikola asked, cocking her head to one side. “Aren’t you the one in charge?”

 

Montgomery smiled, arms gestured outward in a grand sweeping motion. “Yes, I am—do not forget that. However, as my agents, the unit is yours to mold and personalize.” The formation of an armed wing to the Commissariat was the logical conclusion for the Lord Commissar as he no longer trusted the army to protect his Empire.

 

“Ours,” Nikola muttered, looking at Chiara, expression laced with uncertainty; she, too, seemed uncomfortable with the suggestion. They had technically been in command in X-0 during Belgar’s absences. However, they had always deferred to his or Forseti’s orders. They had always been expected to parrot Belgar’s opinion, so being truly in command seemed like quite the daunting task.

 

“Any ideas, Chiara?” Nikola had a few ideas of her own, but she want to hear her partner’s opinion.

 

Chiara scratched her face and shrugged, “It's up to you. As long as I can kill someone, I don’t care what its called.”

 

Nikola thought for a long while and finally settled on one. “Kriegstocher,” she said aloud before nodding. She had remembered that Forseti had once referred to them as the “daughters of war”—not so much an affectionate label as much as an explanatory one. However, the term was more humanizing then anything Belgar had ever referred to them as.

 

“Kriegstocher? Yes, that is acceptable,” Montgomery said with a nod.

 

“What about our weapons?” Chiara asked and gestured to her empty quivers and sheaths. She was uncomfortable being disarmed for so long.

  
  
Montgomery tapped his cane. “Right. Karl,” he motioned towards his subordinate. Karl pulled out two sets of knives that were wrapped in dark cloth. He handed them to the girls and Montgomery continued talking, “Your crossbows were sent ahead. One of them was in pretty bad shape.” Chiara, though disappointed at the news, amused herself by playing with one of her knives.

 

“Did you make the bolts yourself?” Montgomery asked, slightly wary of Chiara’s enthusiasm with the knife.

  
  
“No. They were built in the armory,” Nikola replied. She knew Belgar had developed them himself but was unsure the process.

  
  
Montgomery put his hand on his chin in thought. Turning to Karl, he asked, “Do you think Engineer Trofim could make new bolts?”

 

“Guaranteed. Though, he might gamble them away before we get there.” Karl leaned against the pillar behind him, adding, “I will send him the few we collected.”

 

Nikola and Chiara were disinterested in whoever it was that now made their equipment. As long as the end result could kill a man, it did not matter.

 

“So, you are sending us North, but what are our orders?” Nikola asked as she realized that they were still being kept in the dark.

  
  
“I will wire them to you once you reach the camp. For now, focus on your current task.” Montgomery waved his hand. Nikola decided not to press for clarification.

 

Finished with the debriefing, Montgomery patted Nikola on the shoulder, “I trust you two will be worthy investments.” He started to walk back toward his mansion and stopped at the foot of the stairs. “I will be in contact soon. Good luck.” He slowly hobbled away, leaving Karl, Nikola, and Chiara standing there.

  
  
Karl stretched, something in his shoulder popping. He sighed, then gestured for the two to follow him. “I guess we should go meet Kimura.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was at this point in writing that I realized this story was going to be a lot more than was originally planned. This chapter pretty much is just meant to wrap up some of Nikola and Chiara'd plot points from VC4, and next chapter is when people get introduced that will start part 2. If you're tuning in, thanks for reading.  
> (And yes Kimura is a borrowed character, her story was shit too and I needed a doctor, so here she is.)

\--7 March 1936--

 

Doctor Kimura’s clinic was a small square building located in the lower class district of Schwartzgrad. Surrounded by dilapidated and worn-down buildings, the well-maintained clinic stood out. One would not be able to tell it was a clinic just by looking at it, though, as it was a relatively plain square building. Karl had parked behind the clinic and as they walked around to the front, only the click of Karl’s boots on the cobblestone ground could be heard. The morning sun had become obscured behind a thick layer of clouds, casting the grand city in a tint of gray.

 

As they walked around the building, Chiara felt progressively more agitated. She kept massaging her wrists obsessively like they were still bound. Nikola was stoically looking at her feet, unreadable as usual.

  
  
“I hate doctors,” Chiara said plainly. It did not help that she was back in Schwartzgrad; as they had driven into the city, Chiara had mentioned that she would rather die of the bomb then go back. But both Nikola and Karl managed to convince her that the part of Schwartzgrad they were going to was not where the battle took place. It was a grand city layered by class divides, so they still were quite some distance from the ruined sector.

 

“You certainly have better reason than others,” Karl said, standing in front of them both. He continued to look around uneasy as if it expecting someone to drop down on him from the buildings.

 

“Looking for enemies?” Nikola said, also watching their surroundings. The alleyway gave way to the narrow street of the lower class district. A couple of people were walking by, but overall it was a quiet area of the city.

  
  
“You can only let your guard down once,” Karl said vaguely. They reached the door of the clinic but before he opened it he said, “Kimura is an eccentric, but she has a heart of gold. Don’t be afraid.”

 

“I am not scared!” Chiara said, obviously trying to convince herself as much as the others. Nikola had to admit the location and atmosphere was pretty weird.

 

The entrance way of the clinic was a small waiting room. A couple of uncomfortable black chairs were on one side of the doorway. A woman with tied-back silver hair was reading a book intently when they entered. Upon noticing them, she put down the book and stood up. She had a noticeable hunch to her stature and could have only been a few inches taller than Nikola and Chiara. A black surgical mask obscured the majority of her face. The bags under her dark purple eyes were pronounced, suggesting she was running on very little sleep. Her white lab coat was wrinkled and hung loosely over her small frame. The two girls looked at each other hesitantly, then watched Karl casually walk up to her.

 

“Ah… Commissar Ludwig,” she said in an oddly stilted fashion with a noticeable accent, and held out a gloved hand. Her voice was deep and she sounded exhausted. Both Nikola and Chiara watched the doctor uneasily.

 

Karl shook her hand. “Its good to see you again, Doctor Kimura.” He turned and motioned to the girls standing behind him. “This is Nikola Graf—” Nikola studied her but didn’t move, “—and this is Chiara Rocino.” Chiara remained nervously fixated on the floor in front of her. The sterile smell of the clinic and the harsh lighting reminded her too much of the laboratory.

 

“Are these the girls.. the Lord Commissar called… about?” She said curiously, studying the two girls.

 

“Yes. I trust you can handle the case?” Karl asked. The tired Doctor looked at him for a moment. The laughed quietly to herself.

 

“Of course. I am not some— some second rate surgeon,” she spoke confidently. She motioned for the two girls to follow her. Walking by her desk, she reached over and picked up a clipboard.

  
  
Nikola and Chiara began to follow, but Karl stayed in the lobby. Chiara turned back to him and shakily asked, “Are you not coming?” She had tried to control her tone but her anxiety still had bled through.

 

“I will be here. I just can’t stand hospitals,” Karl said, trying to be reassuring. It was also truth; it seemed they all had their own personal reservations regarding medical practices.

 

“You better be,” Nikola said flatly. She was standing very close to Chiara, as if to comfort herself.

  
  
Karl smiled gently and took a seat on one of the uncomfortable chairs. He was starting to regret having not brought a book.

 

-

 

Doctor Kimura brought the two nervous girls into a small office room. A rusted metal desk was pushed against the wall, surface scattered with various patient files. Several open pill bottles were laying around the table with white tablets collected near them. The walls of the room had several posters decorating them, all featuring diagrams of various parts of the human body. An examination table was pushed against the other wall. Both girls watched surprised as the strange doctor immediately grabbed a handful of the white tablets. In one smooth move, she tugged down the mask and swallowed the pills.

 

Kimura sat down at the desk and directed them to take a seat as well. “Please. I have some... questions,” she muttered. She flipped through a clipboard sitting on her desk, then began writing something neither girl could see. Nikola and Chiara awkwardly sat on the table.

 

Sensing the two girls’ unease, Kimura gently said, “Do not… be scared.” Despite the meager reassurance, neither girl looked any less concerned. Chiara returned to massaging her wrists compulsively. Nikola found her eyes drawn to the desk behind the doctor again, where she noticed a badge sitting on top of a folder. The familiar letters I-S-B were on it.

  
  
Before the doctor could ask any questions, Nikola spoke up. “Did you work for the Imperial Science Board?” Kimura slowly spun around and looked at the badge.

  
  
She picked it up and slid it into a drawer. “Only… briefly. I prefer... civilian work,” she replied. Despite her stilted manner of speech, her respose sounded frustrated. Nikola noticed in the open drawer there was a pistol, and she pointed it out to Chiara who eyed it warily.

 

“We were part of the ISB,” Nikola said flatly. Kimura turned around to face them.

  
  
“X-0 right? The Lord Commissar said so,” she nodded, but her mask made her face difficult to read. “I have... questions,” she said, changing the subject.

  
  
“Where… are the bombs?” She asked, making a note when both girls placed a hand on their right side. She stood up and gently placed her hand against their sides. She felt around see if she could find the device.

  
  
When Chiara winced, the curious doctor asked, “Does… it hurt?”

 

“No,” Chiara insisted trying to sound tough. Kimura stared at her for a moment before making a note on the clipboard. The doctor continued to run through a list of questions, pausing every now and again to make sure both girls were feeling okay. How long since the bombs were installed? Had they noticed any loss of function in their limbs?

 

Both girls answered the barrage of questions to the best of the their knowledge. Nikola, though, found herself ruminating on the doctor’s history with the ISB.

 

Once Kimura seemed satisfied with their answers, Nikola asked, “Did you know Lord Belgar?” She seemed naively hopeful that someone might have something positive to say about her old master. Karl hadn’t known the man, and Montgomery distinctly hated him.

  
  
Kimura stopped writing and looked up at Nikola. “Heinrich?” With no response, she started talking to herself. “Of course… only Heinrich...” She continued to mumble inaudibly, and neither girl could hear what she was saying.

 

As if remembering she was not alone, Doctor Kimura jumped and apologized. “Oh. Sorry. Not… what you asked...” She sat silently for a second deep in thought.

  
  
“Heinrich and I... worked together… once,” she answered finally. “He… was talented, but unethical,” she said vaguely, then stood up. Nikola wanted to ask her to elaborate, but the doctor told them to follow her.

 

They walked down a short hallway to another room. It had several beds lined up in a row, separated by plastic curtains. It smelled of antiseptic and was lit with the same florescent lighting as the rest of the clinic. Doctor Kimura slowly explained the general process going forward with the procedure. After the two girls would change into gowns, she would run some routine tests to ensure they could handle the operation. Then she would take them back one at a time, administer the anesthetic and begin the operation. Both girls found it interesting to hear the doctor go into such great detail explaining the whole process. Lord Belgar never explained any of his operations to them.

 

“Any questions?” she asked, looking up from the chart she was reading. Nikola and Chiara looked at each other nervously. They really did not like the idea of going under the knife again.

  
  
“How long is the surgery?” Nikola said trying to suppress a slight quiver in her voice.

 

“Depends... on the placement,” she said, then clarified, “Two hours each… at the most.”

  
  
“You mentioned anesthesia… um.” Chiara started to ask a question but trailed off unsure on how to word it. Lord Belgar rarely used anesthetic for the purpose of his own operations. He would use localized numbing and ensure the girls were awake for the procedures. However, Chiara could remember one operation where the unethical doctor did use anesthesia. She woke up to find herself an alien in her own body. It had terrified her; she spent a long time being worried about ever having to go through that again.

  
  
“You are not going to do anything else?” she finally managed to get the question out.

 

Doctor Kimura looked at her and said, “No… that would violate my oath.” Chiara still looked unconvinced, so Kimura kindly said, “I promise. You will wake up… feeling as you are.” She looked at them both, then left them to change.

  
  
The two both slowly stripped out of their combat uniforms and put on the patient gowns. The cold tile of the room reminded Nikola instantly of the laboratory, and she started to feel tense. Chiara was pacing anxiously.

  
  
“My hands can’t stop shaking,” Nikola murmured, looking down at her hands. She did not feel particularly scared, but her body was seeming to react to the anxiety before her brain could.

 

“So, this is really it, huh?” Chiara said, still pacing. Kimura’s assurance had done little to ease the girl’s worries. She kept alternating between massaging her wrists and scratching her arm.

 

“Seems like it. I guess it is different from adjustments,” Nikola said while chewing absentmindedly on her nail. Her observation was going off of the only experiences she had in Belgar’s laboratory. In comparison, the clinic didn’t seem as cold and sterile at the very least.

 

“Its going to be okay, right?” Chiara said, watching Nikola from behind the hair that’d fallen in her face. She seemed to be searching for some kind of reassurance.

 

“I think—” Nikola paused for a moment. Then she continued, “It seems like York doesn’t intend to kill us.”

 

“This is all so weird,” Chiara muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Before she could think too hard about the situation, Kimura opened the door.

 

“Alright. Who is first?” she asked. Nikola and Chiara exchanged glances.

 

“Me,” Nikola said flatly. Kimura nodded and motioned for her to follow. Chiara was left in the room alone. She return to pacing mechanically. Eventually she grew tired of pacing and laid down on one of the beds. The quiet hum of the lights was starting to get to her. She slapped her hand against the bed in frustration and rolled over, resting her head on her arm. Audibly sighing, she muttered into her elbow, “This sucks.”

 

-

 

Chiara had resumed pacing by the time Kimura opened the door again. Unbeknownst to the girl, as the room lacked any clock, it had only been about an hour.

  
  
“Is Nikola alright?!” She immediately demanded the moment Kimura entered the room.

 

“She… is resting soundly with my assistant,” Kimura said calmly, holding her hand up. “Everything… went smoothly.”

 

“That is good,” Chiara said, understandably relieved. She felt her heartbeat slow again and took a deep breath.

 

“You two… have been through a lot,” Kimura said, commenting on the fact she had seen the scarring which covered Nikola’s body.

 

“What about it?” Chiara clenched her fist, regaining her defensive nature.

  
  
Kimura looked at her for a moment and said, “I am sorry… is all.” She had known Heinrich was a dangerous man, but he had always been cordial when they had worked together. Kimura had never known Nikola or Chiara until now, but thinking about Belgar’s total disregard for their well being was upsetting even to the slightly unhinged doctor herself.

 

“Are you ready?” She asked looking up at Chiara.

 

“Can you go over the process again?” Chiara asked apprehensively.

  
  
“Of course,” Doctor Kimura said. She patiently went over every step of the procedure, stopping to answer any of Chiara’s questions and reassure the girl everything was going to be fine. Chiara felt a little better after hearing it again. It was a far cry from the approach of Lord Belgar, who only explained procedures after they were already conducted.

  
  
“You are going…to be fine,” Kimura said one last time.

  
  
“Fine. Lets get this over with.” Chiara punched the palm of her hand and followed Doctor Kimura.

  
  
Chiara was soon laying face up on the cold metal operating table. Doctor Kimura placed a plastic mask over the girl’s mouth. There were a few other people in the room wearing white scrubs. Chiara’s brown eyes flitted around scared. Her heart was beating so hard she thought she was going to die.

 

As the anesthesia took hold, Chiara could here Kimura’s faint words, “When you wake up…. Nikola will be there.”

 

-

 

Chiara’s eyes fluttered open, and she slowly looked around. She seemed to be in a different room, but it looked pretty much identical to the first one. She could feel the weight of a scratchy sheet on top of her. She blinked a couple of times, unsure if she was dreaming.

  
  
“How unforunate. I almost thought you had died,” a flat voice said to Chiara’s left. She looked over and saw Nikola sitting next to her bed, looking quite bored.

 

Chiara groggily asked, “How long has it been?

 

“How would I know? There are no clocks in this place,” Nikola said with a shrug. Chiara gingerly felt her side and found it had been bandaged. The white bandage went around her whole stomach.

  
  
“Kimura said everything went fine,” Nikola said, refraining from making another rude comment.

  
  
“That is good,” Chiara said quietly. She had never felt so at ease in her life. Which wasn’t saying much, considering most of her life was lived in Belgar’s long shadow. She could not believe how much had changed in two short days. It felt surreal.

 

The door opened and Kimura stepped into room. She walked over to Chiara’s bed and asked, “Anything… hurt?” Chiara shook her head. “Good,” Kimura said.

 

The sleepy doctor walked to the foot of the bed and said, “The ragnite… was still contained… No damage.” Both girls looked at her, assuming that was good news. However, they had grown accustomed to always receiving bad news shortly after. Instead, Kimura just reached into her pocket and said, “Take these. One every... six hours.” She placed a bottle of pills on the table at the foot of Chiara’s bed. She explained they would help speed up the recovery.

 

The doctor started to shuffle toward the door and turned to look at them before leaving. “Would you…. like me to get Commissar Ludwig?”

 

“He is our boss,” Nikola said, thinking Karl would want to know they were doing well. Chiara had already closed her eyes again. She wasn’t sleeping, a fact that became apparent when she tried bite Nikola’s finger when the other girl tried to poke her cheek.

 

Karl walked into the room, looking like he’d just woken up, cap tucked under his arm. “Kimura said everything went smoothly,” he said while cracking a small smile. Despite his current state, he was glad to know both girls were going to be fine. Turning toward Chiara he asked, “How are you feeling?” She gave him a thumbs up.

 

“What happens now?” Nikola asked. She was hoping to finally understand why they were heading up North.

 

"Right now? Right now, you both recover. Kimura said it should only be a couple of days,” Karl said.

 

"No, I mean after we recover,” Nikola said, exasperated by Karl's response.

 

"I mean it. I want you both to focus on getting back on your feet,” Karl dodged the question again. It was the truth though. He wanted to see the girls back in uniform before briefing them. They had been through so much in the last two days that he did not want to put more stress on them. However, with the glare Nikola was giving him, he wasn't sure if he could get away with making them wait.

  
  
"I promise you, Nikola. I will fully brief you both the moment you can put on your uniforms again,” Karl said while holding up his hands defensively.

  
  
Nikola pouted. "You better. I would hate to have to kill you now.” Karl actually believed she might.

 

\--

 

Nikola and Chiara recovered faster than Doctor Kimura had predicted. Within a day, both girls were actively climbing in the walls of the clinic. However, despite their attempts to prove they were fit and ready to leave, Karl insisted from behind the safety of a locked door that they wait an extra day to be sure. It was not out of malice, he had insisted, but rather because he needed to have time to secure the low-yield ragnite bombs at Montgomery’s request. Karl did not ask why his boss wanted such a powerful weapon; as one learned from working alongside a man like York for so long, it was probably better he did not know.

 

For Nikola and Chiara, it meant another stay in an uncomfortable hospital. Doctor Kimura tried to do everything in her power to ensure the girls were at least able to relax. To her annoyance, though, Karl had stopped her from adding a sedative to the water. Without intervention, Nikola and Chiara were once again at each other’s throats. Thankfully they did not come to blows this time, and instead they wound up sitting in separate corners of the room. Every now and then they would hurl insults at each other but would fall silent once more. Doctor Kimura occasionally checked in on them both to ensure they were still breathing.

 

On the third day, they were finally allowed to leave. The moment Karl opened the door, Chiara punched him in the chest. To her surprise, Karl was not wearing his breastplate; instead she found her spiked knuckles stabbing right into the Commissar’s chest. He winced and gritted his teeth, clutching his ribs where her fist had connected. Her eyes went wide and she backed away quickly.

 

“Are you trying to kill me? Those gloves are sharp!” Karl snapped at her. He looked down at the wound to see a few holes torn into his shirt. The spikes on her gloves hadn’t gone too deep, but they did scrape him enough to leave a few red splotches on his dress shirt.

 

“Why weren’t you wearing armor?!” she shouted in a panic. After receiving a sharp look from Karl, she hesitated, then said, “I—I’m sorry!” She wouldn’t have actually considered assaulting a commanding officer, under normal circumstances; being caged up after surgery again, though, left her unnerved and unbearably antsy. Perhaps it was also Karl’s demeanor, as quiet as the man was, that made it easy for her to forget that he too probably had just as much power over her as Montgomery.

 

"Use your brain next time,” Karl scolded her. Then for good measure, he thumped Chiara’s forehead.

  
  
"Hey!” Chiara jumped back and covered her head defensively.

  
  
"Generous to assume she has one,” Nikola said, rolling her eyes and struggling to suppress a smile at her own joke. Chiara shot her a glare. Nikola looked at Karl and frowned. “You deserved it, though,” she said, crossing her arms.

 

"I did? For what reason?” Karl said while grabbing a towel from a cabinet along the wall and wiping the blood off his stomach.

 

"You said we could leave once we could wear our uniforms,” Nikola said crossly. She put her hand on her hip and frowned at him.

 

"Right, right,” Karl sighed exasperatedly. “I apologize,” he said, bowing sarcastically.

  
  
"So can we leave?” Nikola said. She was just about ready to never set foot inside another medical facility again.

 

Karl opened the door and gestured. “Of course,” he replied. He allowed Nikola to pass but held out his arm to stop Chiara. He bent over to look her in the eye.

 

"I am your superior officer. Strike me again, and I will do far worse then flick that big forehead of yours,” he spoke, quiet but firm. He was not trying to be overtly cruel, but Karl knew Chiara would need to take steps to control her anger, especially if they were to be trusting these two agents to carry out the Lord Commissar's plans.

 

However, Chiara reacted differently than he expected. She froze in fear, staring at him as though he’d said much worse. He noticed her hands shaking and her shoulders tense as if she was mentally retreating. Karl raised his eyebrows upon seeing her expression. He’d read their files; he knew both girls’ mental states were fragile at best, but it was clear that mere time was not going to clear them of their conditioning. Perhaps he would have to reconsider his approach. He made a mental note to send a report to Montgomery on the matter.

 

“Listen— I am not going to punish your for hitting me. But you will have to get that anger in check,” Karl said calmly. He couldn’t tell if she was listening; she seemed to be staring intently at the wall beside her. “Look at me,” he ordered, putting a hand on her shoulder. Her eye twitched, but after a second’s hesitation, her brown eyes flickered up to meet his.

 

“Consider this a lesson,” he explained calmly. “When a door opens, you have one second to gather information and react. That means you must control yourself.” She stared at him, and he forced his brow to relax. “Now. You have to work on the anger. It may be crucial to your safety. Promise?”

 

She jumped when she seemed to realize he was waiting for a response. “Y—Yes! Um, promise,” she replied before what he’d said registered in her mind. Mentally she felt like she was waiting for worse to happen now.

 

He released his grip and straightened up. “Good. Save that rage for the battlefield,” he said with a smile. Then he placed a hand on Chiara’s head; once as a simple pat, then in one quick move, he twisted her red beret sideways and pulled it down in front of her eyes.

 

“Hey!” Chiara said, bewildered by the move. Karl laughed and walked out the door. She wasn’t used to just simply being scolded; however, as she was left momentarily alone in that room, she felt like she had emotionally just walked back from a cliff—like she was prepared for some familiar fear that had not been fulfilled. She took a deep breath. She was fine. Nothing had happened. She wrung her hands as the Commissar’s words finally clicked with her. She straightened her beret and made her way out of the room.

 

-

 

The aroma of fresh bread permeated the car as they got in. Both girls eyed the brown paper bag in the front passenger seat, which Karl quickly picked up and tossed back to them.

  
  
“Ration it. We have a long drive ahead of us,” he said. He then picked up two thermoses from the floor of the seat next to him and clumsily handed them back to both girls. Nikola opened it and held it under her nose.

  
  
“Coffee?” she asked curiously. She took a sip. Chiara just held her thermos with a furrowed brow, deep in thought. She felt caught at the edge of a cliff, stopping right before what was painfully familiar. Did she miss something? She had injured Karl. Yet, the Commissar was simply continuing on as if nothing happened. For a moment, her uncertainty left her missing the familiar routine of X-0. That thought left her nauseated, and she waved it from her mind and shook her head.

  
  
“Yeah. You guys seemed to like it,” he replied, starting the engine. The car started and hummed quietly.

 

“Hold on,” Nikola stopped him. Karl’s hand hovered over the gear shift, and he looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. “You said you were going to brief us,” she reminded him.

 

“Right,” Karl sighed and reached over to grab a stack of folders. He picked up one and opened it. Realizing it was the wrong folder, he threw it down on the floor. The car idled quietly as he flipped through several of them. Finally, he found the folder he was looking for and handed it back to Nikola.

 

She opened the file. “Operation Assam?” she read aloud. Upon hearing the words, Chiara snapped back to the real world.

  
  
She leaned over and craned her neck to look over at the papers in her friend’s hands. “Let me see,” she said. Nikola leaned over so Chiara could read the operational report as well.

  
  
“Operation Assam,” Chiara repeated out loud, wondering if all the operations she had participated in with X-0 had equally stupid names. It was likely, considering Forseti was all theatrics with no ability.

 

“Whew. Glad you both can read.” Karl chuckled when both girls scowled at him. “Feel free to ask questions,” he said as he slowly pulled the car out onto the street.

 

Nikola studied to the operational outline closely. It seemed the gist was that they were to be sent to the Northern border, near the now semi-independent Nord Republic. X-0’s withdraw from the region allowed the rebels known as the Blue Rose to seize key strategic locations across the occupied country. With stolen weapons, the rebels had managed to push out the small Imperial home-guard unit and had taken to fortifying the region heavily. Unable to commit forces to another front, the Empire’s military had simply abandoned the region, creating a new line of defense near Sarva. However, the situation wasn’t hopeless; a group of Imperial Loyalists had begun to fight back against the republican forces. The civil war had, as a scrawled note from Montgomery indicated, attracted the attention of Vinland and the Federation. To complicate matters further, volunteers from across the world were now sailing to assist the republican forces and its fight against the occupation. Men from Castledon, Valois and even Zwolle had disembarked at Lowerholm, bringing their own munitions and ideals.

 

Kriegstotcher’s mission was actually quite simple: assist the Imperial Loyalists and exterminate all those who resist the Empire. Montgomery included a stamped letter, giving the unit full sweeping authority to target the civilian population if it was necessary to break the will of the republicans. The Lord Commissar wanted to send a message to all nationalist-minded groups within the house of cards that ws the multicultural Empire, that choosing to succeed would only mean their complete and utter destruction.

 

Looking up from the papers, Nikola said, “Why is it X-0’s fault our forces collapsed?” Montgomery had written an extremely long-winded rant on the back of the first page blaming the science division for all the problems in the region; she couldn’t help but feel a bit attacked, even if she and Chiara had been receiving adjustments at the time, clearing them of direct responsibility.

  
  
“Your division failed to notify command of its sudden withdrawal,” Karl said stoically, choosing not to elaborate on the Lord Commissar’s complete disdain for the science division. “The home guard lost nearly seventy percent of its men, and we lost three good men as a result.” The martyred three had refused to surrender, and as a last act of defiance they fought with the zeal expected of their office. The fanatical resistance of the three men allowed the home guard to establish defensive positions, halting the ability of the Republican armies to push into Imperial territory. Out ammunition and completely surrounded by the enemy, their final action was to radio in artillery strikes down onto their own position, leaving the world forever. All three were post-humorously awarded the title of Hero of the Imperial Alliance for their selfless actions.

 

However, within the Commissariat it simply meant more dead Commissars paying the price for the tactical failures of Military Command. Medals could not replace good men. Glancing back briefly, Karl added, “Mark my words, when order has been restored we will show the whole world what it really means to resist the Empire.”

  
  
“I see,” Nikola muttered, returning to the outline. She really did not know what to make of the plan. Forseti had always handled planning in X-0. She reminded herself that this was no different. Montgomery had drawn up the plan in front of her—she just needed to carry it out.

  
  
Chiara gave up on reading and sat back. “If the squad is already formed, then why do you need us?” she asked, trying to allow herself to relax following Karl’s lecture.

 

“You have experience fighting in the region, do you not?” Karl answered as if it were obvious.

 

“Yeah, we do,” Chiara said crossing her arms. Ironically they had only participated in two battles in earnest, which hardly constituted meaningful experience.

 

“That puts you one step ahead of most, then,” Karl said matter-of-factly. Watching the road still, he cocked his head to the side. “Though I believe your natures is why the Lord Commissar really chose you two.”

  
  
“Natures?” both girls repeated, looking up at him.

  
  
Karl coughed awkwardly and answered, “Singular in focus.” Being so dehumanizing toward both girls bothered even him a bit. The Commissariat was an institution that despite outward appearances did value the lives of its members, a fact which did now extend to Nikola and Chiara.

 

The car ride fell silent again. Two towns came and went past the windows in the meantime, and they were currently driving past farmland. No one moved to say anything, but occasionally Karl would look back and study the faces of both girls. Nikola was sipping from her thermos and reading. Chiara was staring out the window, looking rather tired of being in the car.

 

“So do you think you can handle it? If you are having doubts, I need to know,” Karl said, breaking the silence once more and getting back to business. The question was directed at both of them, but he was hoping Chiara would answer.

 

“No. I can handle it,” Chiara said, evoking her trademark false confidence. In the back of her mind, though, she had lost faith in her own abilities. Schwartzgrad had been a shock, one she was not supposed to have survived. This was a new chance to redeem herself, and she was anxious to not mess up again.

 

“We,” Nikola interrupted Chiara’s train of thought. She’d read over the file enough to feel confident in reciting it. This time they were together, and for once their orders were clearly spelled out. She had no reason to fear the idea of being punished for misinterpreting her objectives like when they attacked the Centurion.

 

“What?” Chiara said, looking over at her partner.

  
  
“We can handle it.” Nikola looked up. She then added confidently, “Together, we can handle anything.” For the first time Nikola felt as though she had some control over her situation.

 

“Right. We can handle it,” Chiara said awkwardly. Working together as equals, and to not actively trying to undermine each other still felt alien to both girls. Yet at the same time being together was comforting and the battlefield had always been their home.

 

-

 

The drive North was not actually as long as Karl had suggested. Once the trio past through the town of Sarva and crossed into the disputed zone the landscape began to change. Schwartzgrad’s climate was mild despite being a Northern city. However, only a few miles north the Nord Republic was blanketed in snow nearly year round.

 

“I’m so sick of snow,” Chiara mumbled, slouching in her seat and looking out the window bored. She clutched her coffee in her hands and was twisting and untwisting the cap in between swigs. The last leg of the drive had been quiet with no one really having anything specific to discuss. Even Karl was starting look pretty tired and kept closing his eyes just long enough Nikola was certain he had fallen asleep; she didn’t know much about driving, but she wasn’t sure if he was driving in the middle of the road on purpose. Thankfully there weren’t any other cars out this far into the countryside.

 

“Why? Its so much easier to pick out enemies in the snow,” Nikola said disinterestedly, chewing on another pastry. If Chiara was going to mope and not eat her share, then Nikola would.

  
  
Chiara thought about it and nodded. “True. It’s also much more satisfying watching someone bleed out in the snow.”

 

“The way the red stands out from the white is so pretty,” Nikola cooed.

 

Distracted, they both started enthusiastically debating the best way to torture a man to ensure a nice coat of blood in snow. They discussed which major veins should be cut. Chiara proposed using her boot to slow or hasten to speed which blood was pumped out. Nikola, fascinated with the idea, admitted she would like to try it. Karl listened in on their twisted discussion, alternating between finding their exuberance endearing or haunting. He reminded himself to sleep with one eye open around them.

  
  
As if noticing him listening, Nikola asked, “Which one, Karl? Serrated or straight?” She was asking which knife would be better suited for gutting a man. Chiara reached into the paper bag and pulled out the last piece of bread. She chewed on it quietly while waiting for Karl to answer.

  
  
“Commissar Volker always insisted serrated if you want to kill. Straight if you want to keep the poor bastard alive,” Karl responded calmly.

  
  
Upon mentioning his name, both girls looked at each other uncomfortable. Chiara gulped down the piece of bread in her mouth and contorted her face into an odd expression.

 

“Right. Sorry,” Karl said, remembering both girls had an extensive stay in the prison and were more acquainted with the man than most. “His job is an unfortunate necessity.” Karl continued making excuses. The truth was the torturer had been the first man to tell Montgomery he thought the girls were not responsible.

  
  
“Shut up,” Chiara said through gritted teeth. Her time in that prison had been a close call, despite all she’d been through. Though she could take some pleasure in the mutilation of a captive, she had been entirely unprepared to come up against a real sadist like Volker. The head torturer took his time, calmly talking through ever laceration in a disinterested tone of voice. Going straight from the plaza to the dungeon was almost enough to push her over the edge. For the week she spent being personally tortured by Volker, the terrified girl became convinced she had, in fact, died and gone to hell.

  
  
“His technique was fascinating,” Nikola said wistfully. She had simply shut down during the experience, locked her mind away from the pain. If she had the chance to meet the man again in better conditions, she wanted to ask the man about his techniques.

 

Desperate to change the subject Karl blurted out, “Are those uniforms actually warm?” He was referencing the girls’ X-0 uniforms, which seemed fairly lacking in actual defense.

  
  
They both looked at him dumbfounded. Then looked down out their uniforms and finally at each other.

 

“Aren’t we too young for you, Commissar?” Nikola said, stifling a girlish giggle. Chiara on the other hand started to cackle, and once she started she couldn’t stop. She doubled over in her seat, clutching her stomach.

 

“I am serious!” Karl exclaimed, embarrassed at the implication, though he was glad Chiara was no longer moping.

 

Regaining her composure, Chiara said, “The knit top is insulated you dolt.” She held out arms saying, “Its very comfortable. Makes moving around quietly easier.”

 

“Don’t worry, Chiara. I do not think Karl has eyes for us anyway,” Nikola said, trying to control her voice.

 

“I will put those bomb back,” Karl threatened, although it was obvious it was an empty threat. He was too exhausted to deal with teasing from a pair of children.

 

“Try it, and I will take your ear off,” Chiara said still smiling. The whole exchange had managed to diffuse most of the tension in the car.

 

Karl sighed and focused on the road once more. Growing bored with the white world outside the car, both girls turned their attention to playing rock, paper, scissors. At least, that is what Karl thought the game was suppose to be; Nikola and Chiara included other options like knife and bomb which seemed like excuses to hurt each other. At one point Nikola, down three points, yanked Chiara’s hair hard enough that the girl let out a small eep. The appeal of the game was lost on him, but he figured they were having a good time, so he didn’t interfere.

 

After a few minutes of the two wrestling in the backseat, Karl cleared his throat to get their attention. Both girls paused, gripping each other mid-fight, to look up. “We’re almost there,” he said, “so get ready.”


	5. Chapter 5

\--10 March 1936--

 

The encampment for Kriegstotcher was nestled off the main road behind the fortified Imperial line. The snow-covered dense forest provided the needed cover for the military camp. Pine trees towered thick and tall above the ground. Camouflage tents were green and white in order to blend in with their surrounding environment. As the car pulled up, Nikola noticed several soldiers hauling metallic black boxes underneath one of the tents and sorting through the contents. She saw numerous rifles glint in the gray light and even more explosives; the Commissariat clearly did not skimp on equipment. What fascinated the girl more was the unique design of the uniforms themselves. They were totally different than X-0’s black and gold.

  
  
The soldiers’ helmets did not have accompanying metal face shields like the standard Imperial army. Instead, each man had a black cloth wrapped around their face below the nose, which seemed to tuck under the steel helmet. The uniform itself was almost identical to a normal imperial soldier’s aside from the right pauldron being removed in favor of a black side cape, which was decorated with the white insignia of the Commissariat of Internal Security.

 

Once they were out of the car, Chiara started going through a series of stretches. She was beyond estatic to be out of the vehicle. Nikola leaned against the car, taking in the entire scene. The camp was pretty standard in terms of layout. A medical tent and barracks on the right; a cafeteria of sorts and a munitions dump on the left. Right across from the car in the center of the camp was a wooden structure, clearly hastily constructed. Nikola assumed it was a headquarters of sorts. Karl stood imposingly and spoke to one of the soldiers. The man saluted and left.

  
  
Turning to Nikola, Karl said, “I suggest having something to say to the men.” She look back at him blankly.

 

“It was Chiara’s job to direct the men in battle. Let her come up with a speech,” Nikola shrugged, bunting the responsibility off to Chiara.

 

“Hey!” Chiara protested, having finished up her exercises. She walked over to Nikola, crossing her arms and looking at her. “We are doing this together, right?”

  
  
“Its true. You both head this squad,” Karl said nodding. Both girls looked at each other, uncertain what to say. They had been in charge of men in X-0, but now everything felt so different. As they discussed what to say, a young man emerged from one of the barracks. His pale face was smudged with grease. He calmly made his way over to Karl. His blonde hair was messily hidden underneath his gray field cap, and despite wearing only a stained white muscle shirt, he seemed unbothered by the cold.

 

“Karl! My friend! Its good to see you again.” The man said with an infectious smile holding out his arms. He embraced the Commissar as if they had known each other for years. Both girls watch intrigued as Karl, without protest, embraced the tall man.

 

“Good to see you are still alive, Gunther,” Karl said once the two men had released each other.

 

Gunther laughed, “Hah! Not for long, if we are getting started soon!” The closeness on display was something so alien to Nikola and Chiara they couldn’t help but feel resentful. X-0 had been the furthest thing from an affectionate place.

 

Then Gunther cracked a cocky grin and said, “Do you have those smokes you owe me?” Karl nodded and walked over to the car. He leaned in and pulled out a carton of cigarettes, handing them to Gunther who cradled them as one might a child.

  
  
“I always pay my debts,” Karl remarked, enjoying the man’s reaction. He had always liked Gunther’s upbeat attitude and seemingly unflinching optimism regardless of how bleak the situation.

  
  
“These are officer grade,” Gunther muttered, gently rubbing the side of his face against the carton. Nikola studied the man fascinated by his behavior. The whole spectacle reminded her of the way Klaus behaved around Crymaria.

 

As if suddenly realizing it was not just Karl standing there, Gunther looked up at Nikola and Chiara.

 

“Damn you two sure look dangerous!” He moved forward with a smile on his face, holding out his hand. “I am Gunther,” he said lightly. Both girls looked at him expressionless. Nikola had already decided she did not like the man. His enthusiasm made her feel sick. What right did he have to be so happy? Chiara, on the other hand, found herself totally baffled by him. The man’s disarming nature was so unbelievable to her, she could not figure out how to answer it, so she simply just scowled at him.

 

Slowly, Gunther retracted his hand, but his smile remained. “No fun are we?” He looked over at Karl, who coughed awkwardly.

 

“Right. Gunther these are Agents Chiara Rocino and Nikola Graf. They will be leading this unit,” Karl explained in an official tone.

 

Gunther’s blue eyes went wide as if he could not believe what he was being told. “Seriously? These two? They are nearly a foot shorter then me!” he exclaimed, suppressing a chuckle. He was roughly six feet tall and towered over even Karl.

 

“I will break both your legs,” Chiara growled, although she tried to straighten her back to appear taller. She stopped short of standing on her tip toes.

 

“Whoa, woah. It was a joke,” Gunther said holding out his hands. “You will never find a husband with an attitude like that.” He said teasingly. He was totally oblivious to the landmine he just stepped on.

 

“That is it. I am killing him,” Chiara said unsheathing one of her knives and advancing on the man.

 

“Cut out his tongue first.” Nikola said hands on her hips. Gunther took a step back, surprised by their reaction.

 

“That is enough,” Karl said stamping his foot. They all turned to look at him. “Engineer Trofim. Agents Graf and Rocino are your superiors. Show some respect.” He slapped the back of Gunther’s head. “And you two,” Karl addressed the two girls, “You will not be killing anyone in this unit. We can’t replace them.” Chiara sheathed her knife let out a defiant humph. Nikola’s eye continued to twitch for a second, but then she relaxed and shrugged.

 

“Ow. Yes Sir!” Gunther muttered, adjusting his cap. He then turned to the two girls, “Agents. I apologize for my behavior.” He saluted them, then continued, “I look forward to working with you both.” He sounded sincere; once again both girls were unsure what to make of the engineer.

  
  
Gunther picked up the carton from earlier and turned to leave. Before he did, though, Karl spoke again. “Actually, Gunther—one more thing. Did you get the package I sent you?”

  
Gunther scratched his head and said, “Those funky crossbows and the bolts? Yeah, I got them.” Nikola and Chiara both perked up.

  
  
“Were you able to get them in working order?” Karl asked, sliding his hands into his coat pockets. He was already feeling chilly.

  
  
“Took me a while, but I managed. They were some fairly complex designs. Pretty impressive craftsmanship,” Gunther said, already back to smiling. He took great pleasure in his work.

  
  
“Of course they are, Lord Belgar made them himself,” Nikola spoke up, as if it would be common knowledge.

  
  
The engineer looked at her confused, scratching his hairline and adjusting his cap. He replied, “I don’t know of any Belgar, but if he made such an impressive weapon, I would love to meet him.” Nikola looked at her feet and did not respond.

 

“Well, too bad. He is dead,” Chiara said, leaning against the car behind her.

 

“Dead? That’s a shame,” Gunther said putting his hand on his chin in thought.

 

“Could you go retrieve them? I am sure the agents are anxious to have their weapons back,” Karl commanded, shivering slightly. He was ready to get inside, and this conversation had dragged out longer then had thought.

 

“Only if they say please,” Gunther said smugly as he pointed at his commanders.

  
  
Chiara’s eyes narrowed. “Do you want to die?” Her reaction was precisely what Gunther was looking for and he had to stifle a laugh. She was definitely someone who was easy to mess with, which he found entertaining.

 

Nikola had a more muted reaction and frowned. “Is this how you make a first impression, Trofim?”

 

Gunther shrugged lightheartedly. “Manners are pretty important.”

 

The corner of Karl’s mouth twitched in a smile as if he had thought of something funny. He was ready to remind Gunther to be respectful again, but instead he said, “Fair enough, Gunther. Agents, be polite. He did work quite hard on them, I am sure.”

 

“I would love to, but Chiara first,” Nikola deflected with an icy smile.

 

“Nikola!” Chiara exclaimed and whipped around to face her partner, who continued to smile. Gunther enjoyed the display of their almost sibling-like rivalry. Realizing there was no escape, Chiara frowned and mumbled, looking at the ground, “Can I please have my dunkel?” She was barely audible, and it sounded like she was struggling even to pronounce the words.

 

“Sorry, didn’t catch that. Could you speak louder?” Gunther said, crouching down slightly so he was closer to Chiara’s height. Karl was watching warily in case he had to save the engineer.

  
  
Chiara gritted her teeth in frustration and growled, “Can I _please_ have my dunkel?” Her embarrassment was clearly shown across her face.

 

Satisfied with her request, Gunther looked expectantly at Nikola. She sighed, placing both hands on her hips. “Engineer, may I also please have my dunkel back?”

 

“Of course, Agents. Not so bad now was it?” Gunther said, saluting. He turned around and walked into a tent. In an instant, he returned carrying two rectangle cases on his shoulder with one hand. A tied bundle of bolts was hanging over his shoulder by a strap. He placed the cases down on the ground in front of both girls and clicked them open.

  
  
“Alright. You called it a dunkel? Whose dunkel is the purple one,” He asked, looking up. He gently held it up. It glinted in the light and was immaculate—neatly polished and repaired as if it had never been fired before.

  
  
“That is mine,” Nikola said, grabbing it. She gently started to talk to the weapon as if it was a lost child. Karl watched blankly wondering how much the crossbows really meant to the girls.

 

“So yours must be the red one,” he handed the other crossbow to Chiara, who quickly snatched it from him and retreated, fearing she would have to say please again. She started to run her hands over the machine checking if everything was in tact.

  
  
“The bolts were another matter,” Gunther said, slinging the bundle off his shoulder. “I had to make new ones with what I had in the camp. As such, I was pretty limited in options for poison bolts.” He removed the ones with purple vials in the head of the bolt.

  
  
“I will take those,” Nikola said, quickly grabbing them and sliding them into the quiver. She examined one, turning it over and licking it and making a face. “The ingredients are different,” she said thoughtfully.

  
  
“Surprised you can tell. I did my best,” Gunther said, watching the blonde girl. She nodded as if the explanation was satisfactory before licking the bolt again. The engineer then distributed the regular bolts.

 

“The barbed bolts were recreated with nails and some shrapnel I had laying around.” Gunther said as he handed a fistful to Chiara. He assured the younger girl that they would still be able to tear a person to ribbons internally. He also suggested she try heating the tip of the bolt for more damage.

  
  
“Hmm. I will have to try it.” Chiara said, interested in the engineer’s suggestion. She had never had the liberty of experimenting with her equipment within X-0.

  
  
“I also put together a special bolt. Hasn’t been tested yet, though. Anyone interested?” He said mysteriously, addressing both girls.

  
  
“A special bolt?” Nikola looked interested, but did not say anything further. Gunther pulled out another bolt from one of the pouches strapped to his leg. It was slightly shorter then the normal bolts but forked at the top. Wires wrapped around the whole bolt and attached to a black box right below the fork.

  
  
“Flip this switch. Hit your target, and zap.” Gunther demonstrated as he spoke, flipping the switch. A small electric current could be heard traveling up the metal bolt. He flipped the switch off and looked up at the girls.

 

“Give it!” They both exclaimed in unison. Then they both glared at each other.

 

“Hands off, Nikola.” Chiara said, pushing her partner.

  
  
“Why don’t you say please?” Nikola teased smugly.

 

“Hey now. I can make more. Hell, I am not even sure this one will work,” Gunther said, trying to diffuse the situation. He stood up. “How about we flip a coin?” He reached into his pocket. Both girls agreed, and he flipped the coin and slapped it onto his arm.

 

“Heads,” Chiara said.

 

“Tails,” Nikola said.

  
  
“Hmm. I am feeling heads myself,” Gunther said confidently. Karl narrowed his eyes and watched closely. The engineer slowly revealed the coin, and it had landed on heads.

  
  
“Alright!” Chiara celebrated happily. She quickly took the electric bolt and slid it into her quiver.

 

“Lucky,” Nikola mumbled, and despite her blank face it was obvious she was disappointed.

 

Gunther assured her that he would be making more and she smiled flatly. Karl decided they had wasted enough time and suggested they head to the main tent so Chiara and Nikola could finally assume command. He pointed to the wooden structure where a few men were entering. Besides the sound of snow crunching beneath their boots, it was relatively quiet. Before Gunther could enter the command center, Karl grabbed his shoulder.

  
  
“A two-headed coin. Really?” He looked at the young man, bewildered at the idea he felt the need to cheat at a coin toss.

  
  
Gunther looked at him shamelessly. “What? I figured they both needed to loosen up a little.” Karl released his shoulder and allowed him to pass. The commissar took one last look around the base before entering himself.

 

Inside, the room was crowded with at least twenty-five soldiers. They were standing or sitting around, clearly wondering what was going on. Gunther split from the party and made a beeline for a seat next to the window. Nikola surveyed the room and noticed several faces that stood out. There was a feminine looking person leaning against the wall, whose white hair shown brightly in comparison to the uniformed men in the room. She seemed to be watching everyone everyone intently with empty red eyes. A dark shawl hung loosely over the woman’s armor and was marked with the symbol for sniper. A wide-eyed bald man was wrapped in armored robes as opposed to the uniforms the others were wearing. The men he was speaking to seemed absorbed in the man’s enthusiasm. They were having quite a lively debate despite their quiet tones. He would occasionally open the book in his hand and read from it.

 

They followed Karl up to the front of the room and stood slightly behind the imposing commissar. Both girls suddenly felt a lot less confident in their abilities. They shifted uncomfortably and looked at each other.

  
  
“Nikola. What the hell do we say?” Chiara leaned over and whispered. She could feel her palms getting sweaty, and was glad to be wearing gloves.

  
  
“Names. Then, um—” Nikola tried racking her brain, worrying Karl was going to start talking soon. Then it struck her. “What did Klaus always say to his men?”

 

“Something about his soulmate?” Chiara said confused.

  
  
“No, besides that utter nonsense.” Nikola waved her hand. She was wracking her brain, but her memory was so foggy it was hard to recall.

  
  
“Crymaria has a nice chest?” Chiara mumbled, also drawing a blank. The most she had ever heard out of the weird commander was how important Crymaria was to him. Nikola sighed exasperatedly. Then Chiara’s eyes widened. “Oh! Stand with me and we will all go home.”

 

Nikola nodded and said, “Yes that was it. What if we say... ‘Follow our orders and this operation will go smoothly’?” She thought of combining the different mannerisms of her former associates.

  
  
Chiara punched her fists together and shot the other girl a grin. “I like it. We got this.” Karl waited for the two to finish their discussion, then stomped his foot on the food floor. His black leather boot made a hard distinctive thud and soon the room fell silent. All eyes were on the tired-looking commissar and the strange two girls in his company. Gunther was sitting in the back with a goofy look on his face.

 

“As you all know, this squad has been without leadership,” Karl began without introduction. “That changes today. These are the two talented individuals who will be taking over the operational command of this unit.” He motioned with one hand to Nikola and Chiara who stood with shoulders squared, trying to hide the small bit of nervousness they felt. The room itself was tense and everyone remained silent. “Respect them as you would any commissar.” He concluded before motioning for Nikola and Chiara to step forward.

 

“I am Agent Chiara Rocino! Lets have some fun!” She blustered, and then she swung her dunkel on to her shoulder with a sharp grin. She struck an intimidating pose for a girl barely five feet tall.

 

Nikola stepped forward and listlessly announced, “I am Agent Nikola Graf. I do not tolerate failures in my unit.” She cracked her knuckles and blankly started at the crowed. She left her dunkel hanging by her hip.

  
  
Together they recited, “Follow our orders and this operation will go smoothly.” They both held out their arms confidently. Together, they really were an intimidating duo.

  
  
Not a sound was heard in the room. Karl looked around slowly. He actually thought the speech was decent given the circumstances. Then suddenly there was clapping from the back of the room—Gunther, from his spot by the window.

  
  
“Oh, shut up, Gunther!” a voice was heard from the men. The room was quickly alive with murmuring. Gunther, totally unbothered by the man’s statement, made two more obnoxiously loud claps and then catching Chiara’s gaze nodded at her. The gesture made her feel a little better about the speech.

 

A large man stood up and said, “Commissar Ludwig. Is this some kind of joke? These two should be learning how to cook, not leading troops.” The man was nearly as wide as two men and built like a tank. Chiara could feel her eye starting to twitch. Unlike Gunther, this man was clearly serious.

 

“Do you have a complaint, Gottfried?” Karl said exhausted. The men of the Empire were always so predictable.

 

“Of course I have a complaint! I am not trusting my life to two women! They are too irrational for command,” Gottfried thundered. He was easily the tallest man in the room; Karl always wondered what the hell the man ate to get so large.

 

“Yeah! Let alone two schoolgirls,” another man spoke up. He had long black hair which was clearly well maintained. He stood regally, as if it he was the most important man in the room.

 

Karl sighed, already irritated. He wondered if it was too late to shoot himself. Montgomery had told him to execute the first man who complains, but Karl favored a more diplomatic approach.

 

“Seigward, Gottfried. I can attest to these two’s abilities. They are more capable soldiers than most men in this room, frankly,” Karl said, immediately regretting his words. He had stepped on the pride of the two most arrogant men in the whole squad.

 

“Absurd! Women can’t fight,” Gottfried said dismissively, as if it was the truth. The white haired sniper looked at the giant man disinterestedly and Nikola wonder what she thought about the whole situation.

 

Karl was going to say something, but Nikola spoke first. “You are quite the loud mouth. Sheep who bleat the loudest are the first to get slaughtered,” she said coldly.

  
  
“What?!” Gottfried shouted. He kicked a chair next to him causing the men around him to shuffle out his way.

  
  
“I bet I could break every bone in your body!” Chiara chimed in stomping her foot. “In fact, I bet we could take on all of the men in this room!” she continued, and Karl’s eyebrows shot up. The men started to talk amongst themselves. Gottfried looked just about ready to kill, while Seigward brushed his hair arrogantly with his hand.

  
  
“You two act tough, but are obviously all talk. So let me take you to school,” Seigward said smoothly.

 

“Aye, me too. I will make you both cry for your mothers,” Gottfried said aggressively, then added, “Though hitting little girls won’t sit right with me.”

  
  
“Please, do not hold back,” Nikola said, cracking an unsettling smile. “I am sure your screams will be heavenly.”

  
  
“Now, hold on everyone,” Gunther said, walking toward the front of the room.

  
  
“Oh no,” Karl muttered to himself, realizing he was so tired of it all. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. It wasn’t his problem if any of these idiots got themselves killed.

  
  
The room turned to face Gunther, who stood up on a chair. “In situations like these. How about we all chip in and make a pot? Winners take all.” He was clearly enjoying himself. Soon the men were betting various figures on who would win in the fight. Aside from the white haired woman and Gunther, who abstained from chipping in, no one put money on Nikola or Chiara.

  
  
-

 

Outside, Gunther had made himself the defacto referee and had drawn a circle in the snow in the middle of the camp. The men crowded around to watch the spectacle. Karl and Gunther stood with each other, smoking. The white haired woman leaned against a support pole away from the crowd, watching closely.

 

Nikola and Chiara stood next to each other, confidently staring down their opponents. “Which one do you want?” Nikola asked while stretching her arms. The fight was going to be a standard sparring match: once someone tapped out, they were done.

 

“I want to break the pretty boy’s fingers,” Chiara snarled, eyeing Seigward. Her blood was pumping and she was ready to show what kind of damage she could do. She was only mad she could not kill him.

 

“Hehe… Perfect. I love a challenge,” Nikola said excitedly. It had been too long since she had a good fight with someone besides Chiara.

  
  
“Now, don’t start crying when we hurt you,” Gottfried said, voice booming, as he cracked his knuckles. Nikola was already sizing up how to best to take down the giant.

  
  
“Let me teach the beastly one some manners,” Seigward spoke confidently and stepped forward.

  
  
Upon realizing he was referring to her, Chiara’s eye twitched and she growled, “Oh, that is it—” She shot forward before anything else could be said. Seigward managed to dodge her punch but, taking advantage of her small size and speed, Chiara soon had the man on the defensive. Karl watched, amazed. It was his first time seeing either girl in action, and her reflexes were nothing short of impressive. However, he was uncomfortably aware of what those reflexes had cost the girl.

  
  
Seigward attempted to regain momentum with a flurry of punches but Chiara dodged them with ease and landed a hard kick in his side. He grunted and grabbed her leg, then pushed her off. She stumbled for a moment but quickly regained herself.

 

“That all you got, pretty boy?” she chided before lunging at him again. This time she was aiming for his legs and slammed her spike boot into his thigh. He buckled to the ground, but not before he punched her in the jaw.

 

Chiara took a step back and spat out blood on the ground. “ahahahaha... you’re gonna regret that,” she said, grinning. Seigward’s face went white as the girl tackled him to the ground. In an instant she had his arm behind his back and held up his hand.

 

“This is our squad. Understand?” She said, gripping his arm roughly.

  
  
“Go to hell you twitchy bitch,” he said into the ground, thrashing in an attempt to knock her off. But Chiara had locked herself in place and was using all her strength to keep the man pinned down. She pressed her knee hard into his back.

  
  
“Wrong answer,” Chiara snarled, and she snapped one his fingers. It made a sickening crack and the man grunted. Karl decided to not to interfere. It was Nikola and Chiara’s call on how to lead. He briefly considered how much Montgomery would love the scene. Gunther next to him was excitingly watching the whole scene unfold.

 

“This is _our_ squad. Do you understand?” Chiara repeated, already moving to the next finger. She was prepared to break the man’s whole hand.

 

“Ugh—Fine! Fine. I give,” Seigward grumbled and Chiara released him. She landed a final kick in his side and walked back to Nikola. The men watching were dumbfounded, and once again only Gunther was clapping.

 

“How did I do?” Chiara asked, smiling like a child who had just won an award. She wiped the blood off her face.

  
  
Watching a wounded Seigward limp out of the arena Nikola answered, “Not bad. But I can do better.” She stepped into the arena, facing Gottfried. She had already determined how to bring down the man.

  
  
“I have to admit I am impressed,” Gottfried said honestly, “but do not expect me to go down so easily.” He assumed his stance, watching Nikola closely.

 

Nikola giggled creepily. She was never one to make empty threats. She had noticed the large man was favoring his left leg. He must have hurt himself and was trying to hide the injury. Gottfried lunged at her and she easily dodge his grapple. Her fantastic reflexes were a direct result of Belgar’s extensive adjustments.

 

With cat-like agility Nikola gracefully moved around the hulking man and kicked the back of his right knee with a force that even caused Karl to wince. Gottfried cried out slightly and lost his balance. Nikola, unlike Chiara’s more impulsive approach to combat, remained in control. She waited patiently for the man to stand back up.

 

“Guess I should not be surprised such a big guy is stupid enough to fight wounded,” she said flatly as Gottfried turned to face her.

 

“Arrogant, aren’t you?” he growled as he once again charged her. However, his wounded leg had slowed his pace tremendously; Nikola had no problems moving out of the way. The fight continued like a dance between them, with the graceful figher moving out of the way of the raging bull. Eventually Gottfried was breathing heavily, and Nikola decided it was time to break the man.

  
  
“You hideous brute. Sure you don’t want to quit?” she offered coldly. When he lunged at her again, she dropped to the ground and tripped him. Gottfried’s face slammed into the ground and Nikola put her boot on the back of his neck.

 

“If serving under us is so unbearable, I can kill you right now,” Nikola said coldly. She pressed down on the man’s neck. “Hold up your hand if you submit.” She grinded her heel into the man’s flesh. “I am going to count to five. At five I will break your neck.” Nikola watched, the smile on her face not reaching her eyes. Everyone was watching tensely. Karl had gone through two whole cigarettes and was seriously hoping the girl did not kill Gottfried. Gunther was still at the edge of his seat. Everyone was holding their breath.

  
  
“One,” Nikola began coolly. Gottfried stayed silent.

  
  
“Two.” Nikola lifted up her foot. She was going to stomp on the man’s neck. He would be paralyzed the rest of his life. Still nothing.

  
  
“Three,” she said, and slowly Gottfried held up his hand. Nikola removed her foot and took a step back. Karl let out a sigh of relief. Gunther squeaked like a squirrel and Karl thought the man was going to start cheering.

 

“You are one cold brat,” Gottfried grumbled breathily, sitting up. He massaged his neck. “But you hit harder then most of the men here. I can respect that—even if you are a girl.” He struggled to his feet.

 

“Fix that leg and I will be happy to break it again,” Nikola said, ignoring his comment and pointing at the man’s leg. He nodded and made his way toward the infirmary.

 

The two girls looked at the faces of the men surrounding them. Chiara spoke first.“If any of you fools have a problem with us leading—”

 

“—We will gladly deal with you right now,” Nikola finished. The fighting had actually rid them of their nerves. It was also the first time they’d actually worked together on something, rather than fighting each other. Both girls found a profound since of relief knowing they had each other’s backs. The men of Kriegstocher cast nervous glances back and forth.

 

No one stood up, so Nikola said, “That is what we thought.” After a minute the men dispersed and slowly returned to their positions leaving Nikola, Chiara, Karl, Gunther and the white haired woman standing near the blood stained circle in the snow.

 

“Wow! Those were some impressive moves, you two,” Gunther exclaimed breaking the silence. He was holding a huge box of money and smiling thrilled at his winnings.

 

Chiara cracked her neck and stared at him. “Are you always so happy?” She was really curious what made a man so joyous. No one in X-0 had ever even bothered to smile for the most part, aside from Belgar—and his smile was anything but kind.

  
  
“Of course. After all, you just made me a lot of money.” Gunther said with a shrug. The white-haired woman came up behind him and gently tapped his shoulder. He spun around in surprise.

  
  
She held out her hand and with a soft voice said, “My cut.” Nikola noticed the woman’s arms were bandaged all the way up into her sleeve.

 

Gunther changed his tune and said, “Right. Here, Sorina.” He quickly sat the box down and pulled out a wad of cash. “I am not sure how fair it is to bet against a witch though,” he said jokingly.

  
  
“You’re one to talk. You cheat,” Sorina replied, pocketing the cash. She turned to Nikola and Chiara. Her red eyes and pallid complexion were off-putting even for the girls. “That was a good show. You two will be be fine commanders,” she said eerily. Something was off about her, the way she walked and spoke seemed like she was hardly there. She seemed to sway in the wind.

 

“Right...” Nikola mumbled, unsure how to react to the praise or the prediction.

  
  
“Y-yeah.” Chiara was uncomfortable around the creepy woman. Sorina said nothing else and walked away. The snow did not even crunch under her feet. Gunther likewise excused himself, excited to go see if he could make himself a little richer, which left Nikola, Chiara and Karl.

 

“I am proud of you both. That was impressive,” Karl said finishing his third smoke. “I am sure this squad is in good hands.” He would send a full report to Montgomery later.

 

“Did you expect anything less? We are the best,” Chiara confidently crossed her arms. Being able to fight had greatly improved her mood. She was looking forward to being in command for once in her life.

  
  
“This is what were created to do,” Nikola added simply. It was a depressing statement but she had long ago embraced her sole purpose.

 

“Excellent. Then lets get to work. We have much to do before I take my leave,” Karl said, getting right back down to business. They headed back to the command room, which was now empty, and started to go over the plan for the coming weeks.

-

  
Commissar Ulyana was unimpressed with the pleas of innocence from the two industrialists Montgomery had sent her to arrest. The two men, whose factories were primarily responsible for producing tanks for the Empire, had been caught sequestering the funds given to begin a new production run for their own personal gain. It was unacceptable, and such acts of greed were drastically damaging to the war effort.

 

The two men had been dragged out of their homes a few hours after the order for their arrest was called in from Karl that morning. Now clapped in irons and sitting across from her in the harsh lighting of an interrogation room, one of the men had the nerve to sneer, “I didn’t think they let women be Commissars.”

  
  
Ulyana ignored him and opened the folder in front of her which detailed the extent of the man’s crime. “Mr. Wagner. Given your current predicament, I would stay silent.” She slowly flipped through the report and then closed it. “Your co-conspirator has already incriminated you in a conspiracy to enrich yourself at the expense of our war economy.”

 

Wagner gulped, fully aware of the consequences of treason. Shakily he said, “T-that is bullshit. I have always fulfilled my production runs on time. I would never steal from the Empire.”

 

“Your excuses mean nothing to me,” Ulyana said waving her hand. Being the youngest member of Montgomery’s inner circle, she had big shoes to fill. “If you give me a full confession of guilt now, there will be no reason to resort to more violent methods.” Although she would have little qualms with allowing Volker to have his fun with the man.

 

Realizing he had been found out, Wagner resorted to what all men of affluence do when out of options. He started to plead for his life. “P-Please, just—just wait a minute,” he started, whimpering about himself in a useless plea of sympathy. Ulyana pushed an open file over toward him. Inside was a pen and two sheets of paper, on which had a short printed paragraph in latin script, admitting to being an enemy of the state with a line for a place for signature at the end. Confessions of guilt were important for the office, as it allowed the Commissariat to justify its existence. Out of options, Wagner nervously signed his name on the dotted line and looked up Ulyana.

 

“The Imperial Alliance thanks you for your cooperation, Mr. Wagner.” Ulyana stood up. Methodically, she removed a pair of earplugs from a deep pocket located near her hip. Wagner watched in horror as she placed the two wax plugs into both ears. Slowly the woman reached into her jacket.

 

His eyes widened as she removed a Mustela broomstick, with its thin barrel and square frame. Without a hint of emotion, Ulyana took aim at the mans head.

 

“W-wait..” Wagner stuttered, and she pulled the trigger.

 


	6. Omake

 

**Montgomery York**

Age: 67

Title: Lord Commissar

The enigmatic Lord Commissar of Schwartzgrad, who regularly recruits individuals that have survived against all odds. His attitude toward the Empire reflect his choice in subordinates; he is a man who reveres the Empire as the ideal state, but harbors no loyalty to the nobility credited with building it.

 

**Karl Ludwig**

Age: 46

Title: Commissar

York’s right hand; a soft-spoken man who always seems tired, but underneath the surface is a fiercely devoted servant of the Lord Commissar, and shares nearly all of the same radical views.

 

**Seiko Kimura**

Age: 29

Title: Doctor

Far-Eastern doctor who once worked for the Imperial Science Board, but now spends most of her time helping the lower classes of Schwartzgrad while occasionally fulfilling requests from York.

 

**Gunther Trofim**

Age: 20

Class: Assault Pioneer

An infectiously optimistic Engineer who hails from the Nord Republic, he is a compulsive gambler whose notorious good luck has gotten him into quite a bit of trouble.

 

**Sorina**

Age: ??

Class: Sniper

Labeled a witch by most of the men of Kriegstotcher, the albino sniper mostly keeps to herself. She has noticeable burn scarring across most of her body.

 

**Gottfried**

Age: 38

Class: Armored Tech

A veteran who's seen many battles across the continent of Europa. A traditionalist at heart, he's a man who embodies the physical ideal of the Imperial man. Many men in Kriegstotcher look up to him as a fatherly type.

 

**Siegward**

Age: 19

Class: Fencer

Haughty nobleman with unknown circumstances regarding his recruitment, whose bad attitude has earned him the dislike of his commanding officers. He takes meticulous care of his hair.

 

**Ulyana Von Wolzogen**

Age: 34

Title: Commissar

The newest member of Montgomery’s inner circle, she seeks a higher purpose outside of the stagnant nobility and a life of political marriages.


End file.
